Worth Fighting For
by ink and ashes
Summary: It is the innocent who pay for our misbegotten indiscretions. DISCONTINUED.
1. Chapter I: Demon Within

**Worth Fighting For**

**A Teen Titan Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter I: Demon Within**

**[**Main (Rec.) Room, Titan Tower**]**

The moon is lovely.

The blanket of night had settled upon this side of the Earth, tucking in its sleeping cities snugly. The silver ember of moonlight basked the land in an ethereal glow, making everything glitter and glisten like jewels. From here, everything looks peaceful and tranquil, the mixture of light and dark creating a dazzling, almost romantic effect.

How beautiful it must be to have lived here all life long. . .

"What're _you _doing up?" Asks the ever-dark Raven, sleep-deprivation having made her even grumpier than usual. I hear her shuffle towards the kitchen ungracefully--which is odd for her--and open the refrigerator. I can feel her gloominess, even from where I sit, and I want so badly to brighten it . . . but I know she will not let me. Instead, I simply shift on my small little bean-bag chair--I had to beg them to let me get it--and continue to gaze out the window, answering her so that she will not take out her frustrations on me. "I do not sleep," I say, leaving out why. I _did_ sleep before . . . but no longer. I can't. I have tried, but sleep refuses me . . . so I learned to give up and accept it. . .

As I do everything on this planet.

I feel Raven's eyes on me for a moment. I half-hope she will ask me _why_ it is that I no longer sleep. I half-hope she will sit by me and demand that I tell her what was wrong--like on those T.V shows I have seen. I half-wanted her sympathy, wanted her to tell me that she cared, and that she was my friend and ally.

But she did not.

I knew that she would not. She is Raven, but more importantly, I am me; Starfire.

"Goodnight," she says out of habit. I hear her finish off whatever it was she was drinking and shuffle towards her room, closing the door soundly behind her. I used to flinch at the awful, horrendously loud sound, but now I do not. It is proof that I am getting used to them all; their quirks, their flaws, their small imperfections which make them so wonderful to me.

But . . . will they ever get used to me?

Slowly, I stand from my comfortable spot and walk over towards the sink, where Raven had dumped her empty cup. I have learned that, while sleeping (or even near that state), humans have no real control over what they say or do. Oft-times they say things honestly, but harshly. Or they do things they did not mean to. Such as now; everyone usually cleans after themselves here, but Raven left her cup uncleaned.

I decide to clean it for her.

I finish it in almost no time at all--it was only a cup--so I go back to my seat and think some more, gazing at the breath-taking scenery before me. It reminds me so much of Tamaran; of the land of the King and Queen--my mother and father. I sat there, unmoving, for what must have been hours. When I snap out of my hazy reverie, it is morning, and Robin is yawning and stretching as he emerges from his room, scratching his chest in the way that all males tend to do in the morning. I do not have to look at him to know that he is wearing his trademark mask and sleeping boxers--and nothing else--with his hair sticking up in every direction possible. I do not have to look to see Cyborg groggily stumbling into the room and mumble a "Good morning," to anybody who passes, his human eye streaked with red lines from sleep. I do not have to confirm that Terra will bump into every inanimate object until she opens her sleepy blue eyes.

I know them all so well . . . and yet, they do not know me.

It is easy to see Raven emerging like a shadow from her room in my mind's eye, her eyes heavy-lidded and tired. Beast-boy would come stumbling out of his quarters shortly thereafter, affectively tripping over something and hurting himself. He will then awaken fully when seeing the drowsy Terra and promptly make a fool of himself--and she will giggle sleepily before yawning.

"Anybody seen my Pop-Tarts?" Cyborg will ask, I predict. He does and I hide a smile. I already know it was Beast-boy who took them, and I know that Robin will make him go to the store to buy more to make up for it, him being the leader figure and all. Cyborg will growl at Beast-boy and Beast-boy will cower and smile that nervous/innocent smile of his. Raven will roll her eyes at them and grab her food of choice for the day, going back to her room afterwards. Robin will tell Cyborg to stop growling and Beast-boy to go and get the Pop-Tarts. Terra will volunteer to accompany Beast-Boy. Afterwards, Robin will drink some milk and return to his room to get ready for a long shower before going back to the fridge and bringing out some cereal to eat in front of the large T.V screen.

And I will sit here and listen, staring out at the red-and-gold city, still awakening with the dawn.

It is noon before anyone speaks to me. By then, I have lost myself to the quiet serenity of the day, glad that no criminals--or Slade--have tried to take over the world . . . again. Predictably, it is Robin that speaks to me, unknowingly establishing his role by being the first to try and figure out what was wrong with me. "You okay, Starfire? You've been quiet all morning."

Had he asked me that this morning, I would have poured my heart out to the boy. I cared for him a little differently than I did the others--I have yet to figure out _exactly_ how differently--and I felt comfortable, yet nervous, in his presence. This morning, I felt vulnerable and alone, wanting to be comforted, even when I knew no one would.

But it was noon. I felt fine--other than this weird urge to be alone lately--and I didn't want to trouble him. "I am okay, Robin," I say and I give him a determined smile to assure him.

"You sure?" He asks. He does not believe me, I think, but I cannot see his eyes to confirm it. I nod my head, still smiling, and he knows he cannot pressure me. He nods and walks away, his steps hesitant and unsure, and I hope it is not because of me. I know it is obligation that he asks after me--not true concern. I know, right now, he feels like he has failed in some way because I did not communicate openly with him--as they are used to. They are used to me being light and airy; light and happy. They are used to me speaking my mind and floating around like a ray of sunshine.

Night falls again. I am still here, still thinking--still wondering.

I do not think it will end anytime soon.

**--[Teen Titans]--**

**[**Raven's Room, Titan Tower**]**

Her long blue cloak fluttering behind her, the violet-eyed Raven walked towards the beautiful mirror that lay upon a desk--the source of her discomfort. Her brows furrowed, a pale hand reaching out and picking up the accursed thing with cold, unsure fingers. Instead of reflecting a face devoid of emotion, it revealed a world that she knew all too well; the portal to her mind. Amidst the bloody reds and never-ending blacks that made up her dark and confusing mind, was a double pair of slitted, glowing yellow eyes that were _not_ supposed to be there.

_'Trigon.'_ "What're _you_ doing out?" Her brow furrowed, her voice held a tone of surprise--an emotion rarely heard from the dark spellcaster. Her slender fingers tightened around the handle, the pressure making them an even paler shade of ivory.

_"Hatred shall rule you. . ." _A fanged smile appeared from the depths of the mirror, revealing deadly, sharpened white teeth. _"Rage shall consume you. . ." _The voice was a low, throaty rumble; the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose and prickled like a cat's.

"Not if I can help it," she growled back, her eyes glowing. Laying her hand before the mirror face, she muttered, "Azarath, Metrion, _Zin--!_" but she was cut off when an evil, sadistic laugh emitted from that gruesome mouth revealed within the depths of the mirror. The impure sound of it sent a horrible shiver down her spine and kept her from muttering the words that summoned the full force of her powers to the surface. Within her head, she felt a jarring, as if someone were trying to break free. The pain was excruciating and she gritted her teeth against it, clenching her eyes shut in an effort to keep the scream at bay.

"I won't let you out again," she growled out with obvious effort. "You won't control me!"

_"Who says I want_ you_. . ." _A low, mocking laugh. _"I've already caught my prey . . . you no longer interest me,_ daughter_."_

Violet eyes snapped open in shock in spite of the pain. She fought the evil force with a renewed effort; black energy cackled and thundered about her, knocking off the larger mirror from her wall and flipping over her bed with a loud _crash_. It felt as if her head were splitting in two and she could no longer hold back the cry of pain that tore from her throat of its own accord. Her door slammed open.

She faced her friends through eyes that shimmered an evil, unnatural red; her own pointed teeth drawing blood from her pale lips. Tendrils of pure dark energy emerged from beneath her closed cloak, grabbing at anything that lived and moved. Graceful and swift, Robin easily ducked and dodged the slippery tendrils of evil, unearthly power--yet he was unsuccessful in reaching the transformed Raven. Beast-boy was like a green streak, changing from form to form in an attempt to reach her. Cyborg fought off the strong vines that wrapped around him and pulled him towards the darkness that emitted from Raven's cloak. In desperation, he shot at them with his weapon, but they just ricocheted and almost hit Terra, who was fighting against the vise-like grip.

Morphing into a pterodactyl, Beast-boy crashed into Raven, effectively slamming the spellcaster back into the floor. An enraged, pained roar exploded from her in a voice that wasn't her's as her head collided with the floor. In a flash, Beast-boy had transformed into his normal form, kneeling above an unconscious Raven--who seemed normal enough. . .

"B.B., look out!"

He barely had time to heed Robin's warning when a large cloud of red and black smoke ripped itself from Raven's unmoving body. The force of it raised the prone girl in the air, hovering a few feet above the ground. When the smoke and Raven separated completely, she fell like a limp doll; landing securely in Beast-boy's awaiting arms. The slithery cloud took form; vague horns appeared on either side of a four-eyed face, red overtaking the black.

It seemed like a giant, smoky devil had emerged from within Raven.

_"Weaklings!"_ It exclaimed. _"She is worthless to me now; I have already found my new shell--worthless fools!"_ And he disappeared from the room in blur of red.

Another scream tore from Raven, her eyes wide and unseeing; no one heard another cry of anguish that filled the halls of Titan Tower with its melody of pain. No one saw where the demonic spirit flew off to, nor did they care; the Titans--minus Starfire--rushed to Raven's side, hovering over her as Beast-boy gently placed her on the ground. Terra was the first to speak, her voice quavering noticeably.

"What--or _who_--was that? Yeesh, and I thought_ I_ was the only one who couldn't control her powers; I've never seen Raven act like that."

Robin's voice was grave and low when he answered the blue-eyed blonde. "That's because she's only acted like this once before. I'm not too sure on the details, but. . ." Masked eyes met emerald ones across from Raven's still form. "Beast-boy and Cyborg know what happened last time--they know what caused it."

"What?" She asked curiously. Bright blue eyes locked on Cyborg before they moved to Beast-boy, who was still staring down at the unmoving Raven. Seeing as Beast-boy wasn't going to answer, Cyborg decided that he would instead.

"Well, ya see. . ." He began awkwardly, not knowing where to start. "After the first time she went all crazy like--we were fighting with Dr. Light and I guess he pushed her too far--me and B.B. accidentally went into her room when it was empty--"

"_You_ knocked so hard, you broke down the door," Beast-boy said with a small smile on his face.

Cyborg glared. "Whatever. Anyway, we found this mirror in her room and B.B. had to go pop a zit in front of it." Another glare for Beast-boy, who blushed and stuck his tongue out childishly at him. "And we got sucked into her mind. We met different versions of her--Happy, Timid, Brave--" He ignored Beast-boy's comment of "The Happy one laughs at my jokes!" and went on over him "before the _real_ Raven came and told us that something in her mind had escaped; which happened to be her father. In the end, she had to combine every version of herself to beat him, and he turned out to be Rage--y'know, the Angry, Hateful part of herself. So she absorbed Rage (I guess you'd call it/her that) and everybody was okay . . ." The metallic giant looked down at his friend. "I _thought_ so anyway. . ."

Terra's eyes were wide and awed. It seemed to take a moment to find her voice. "_Whoa_." Her jaw was slack. "So that _thing_ that came out of her--_that_ was Rage, er, I mean, her father?" While she spoke, Robin motioned for Cyborg to help fix up Raven's room--meaning, flip over the bed and make everything as neat as possible. Raven didn't like people in her private domain--even if it _was_ to help her--but maybe cleaning it up would save them from her wrath.

Beast-boy shook his head. "I'm not sure, but I think it was. Same voice and everything." When Robin told him to, Beast-boy carried Raven over to the now-fixed bed, placing her down as gently as he had before.

It was decided to let the Titan rest. Solemn and confused, they retreated from the dark and disorienting room, closing the door quietly behind them and standing in front of it in the corridor for a moment. As one, they quietly walked to the Main Recreational Area to think amongst themselves. Beast-boy offered to make some pasta--tofu style. Cyborg declined less-than-politely and the two males engaged in one of their daily arguments.

Terra followed Robin to the sofa, where they sat looking out the large windows instead of the television set. Silver rays of moonlight streamed in through the overly-large windows that over-looked their beloved Jump city. Stars twinkled in the vast, midnight skies, their light pale in comparison to the Lady Moon.

_'Stars. . .'_

It was in that moment that the leader of the Titans realized something. He sat up, his senses alert now that he was not lost in thought. Terra, who had fallen sleep, was startled awake, the movement having jostled the sofa cushions and awakening her easily. Groggy eyes looked at him, asking what was wrong and he turned to her, his own, masked orbs unfocused. "Has anyone seen Starfire?"

**--[End Chapter One]--**


	2. Chapter II: A Woman's Burden

**Worth Fighting For**

**A Teen Titans Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter II: A Woman's Burden**

**[**Rooftop, Titan Tower**]**

Sighing, I hug my knees tightly, letting the wind calm my soul. The sun, as always, warms me and gives me the strength that only Tamaranians can harness from solar energy. It tingles, this feeling. I feel lighter and calmer, the turmoil I've been faced with recently fading a little and losing the sharp edge it's had on me. Maybe if I stay out here long enough, the pain will go away. Maybe my worries will fade, becoming nothing, and I can go back to being me. Maybe I will remember what happened during the thirteen-hour gap in my memory.

But after a few more minutes, I realize it was not to be. My deepest fear and pain still buzzes hauntingly through my mind, and I find myself shivering in spite of the warmth.

_"_I _own you now. . ."_

"Starfire?"

To say I am startled would be an understatement. I turn to see Raven walking towards me with her hood down, her cloak billowing gently in the cool breeze. The jewel on her forehead--a shakra, is it called?--shines brightly, reflecting the fading light of the sun. Her purple eyes take on a red hue, making her seem even more magical and mysterious than she already is. Yet . . . she seems tired--sick almost. "Hello Raven; are you faring well--you seem tired. Is not the sunset beautiful? Would you like to join me--perhaps it will help with whatever ails you."

She observes me, not even looking at the sun or its beautiful patterns, and I shift uncomfortably. My hair tickles my back as it flutters in the wind, and I wonder why Raven has sought me out. "Where were you?" She asks. "Robin and the others have been searching for you all over the city for the past day or so." She casually flicks a strand of blazing violet hair from her serious face. "If I had awakened sooner, I probably would have been out there too."

I hope she will not see through my lie. "I am very sorry. I lost track of time. I did not mean to worry you or the others." It was not a _complete_ untruth, I suppose. I truly _am_ sorry, and I really _did_ lose track of time; it is what I lost track of time _doing_ that is a mystery to me.

The stern, almost scolding expression on her face softens as she stares at me, looking for what, I do not know. "You okay, Star?"

I smile at her. "Of course I am; why would I not be?"

"You're not a very good liar."

I frown. "I am not lying."

"That's twice in a row."

I turn towards the sun again. "There is nothing wrong," I say, with more strength than I perhaps meant to. There is a tense silence before I hear her footsteps shuffle the other way and I sigh with relief. But before she leaves, I hear her mutter something in the doorway. "I'm going to go call the others and tell them you're okay; Robin'll be frantic." Another pause and this time, I know she is addressing me fully. "If you need us--if you need _me_--we'll always be here. We're a team, you know."

Hearing Raven say this is startling and I feel awful for my strong words. I remember wishing before that she would tell me the same words she's just uttered before. "I know," I say softly, deflating. There is an odd pause before I hear her close the door, disappearing from the rooftop. I wish to chase after her; to ask her what was wrong with her, but something keeps me here. I feel her words vibrate through my mind. Memories long past resurface and I bask in their glory, letting the wind tickle through my hair as I relax a little.

I think back to the time Raven and I were stuck in each other's bodies. After much arguing, she and I had learned to get along much better, and for a while, it was good. But then, I guess, Raven tired of me always pestering her, for when I would then ask to meditate with her, I would always be turned down with explanations like, "I need to _really_ concentrate right now, Star--maybe later," or "I'm trying to decipher a vision, Starfire; maybe some other time." But 'some other time' never came and 'later' would be too late. We are still friends, of course, but she has distanced herself from me once more, and I long to have that closeness we once shared for such a brief time.

_'Ah,' _says a voice in my mind I didn't quite recognize as my own. _'But she has all the time in the world for Terra. . .'_

I feel my eyes widen in shock. I am absolutely appalled at myself; I cannot believe that jealous thought has just formed in my mind. I refuse to believe it. Of course, _everyone_ cares for Terra! I am very fond of her, Beast-Boy is in _love_ with her, Robin has decided to become her trainer (she still had a few problems to tweak with her powers), Cyborg acts like an older brother, and Raven is becoming more social thanks to the Earth-girl's presence.

We care for her because she's our _friend._

_'But you know the truth; it has been four months since Terra has joined us, and since that time, you've slowly been excluded from many things,' _says my treacherous mind, and I clutch at my head and hair in a vain attempt to dislodge these wicked and untrue thoughts from my brain. Vaguely, I wonder if my beloved sister, Blackfire, went through this before the darkness that dwelled with her--within _all_ Tamaranians--got the best of her. If so, and my recent troubles are not unfounded, then I fear for my future.

'_Blackfire . . .'_ I try to ignore it, but how can you ignore your own mind? _'It's happening again, isn't it? Just like with Blackfire; every time someone better comes along, you're the first one they try to throw away. . .'_

"No!" I cry, my voice scaring away a few birds in the distance. "No, that is _not_ true!" I have never really raised my voice before and it sounds odd to my own ears. I clench my eyes shut and my grip on my head is beginning to hurt, but I try to dispel that awful voice before it tries to turn me against my friends. "You won't succeed," I say low, not caring that I'm speaking to my _own_ voice in my head.

_'You know it's true,'_ I hear, the voice soft and seductive; haunting and tickling every inch of my consciousness. _'They see you as the most useless of the Titans. Robin is the leader and powerful in his own right; Cyborg has his technology; Beast-Boy, his metamorphic abilities; Raven, her dark spells and psychic powers, and dear_ Terra _has the amazing ability to control the Earth at will. And you, Starfire . . . what do you have?'_

"I have my strength--"

_ 'Which can easily be overcome;_ Robin _could defeat you easily.'_

"I have the gift of flight--"

'_Beast-Boy can easily use that gift,'_ my mind whispers tauntingly. _'Raven and Terra can use this gift with nary a thought. _X'Hal_, Robin can even glide, which is close enough.'_

"I have my Starbolts--" I am getting desperate to win this mental battle with myself.

_'Blasts of energy.'_ The voice scoffs. _'What good is that?_ Robin _can easily defeat you_ without _his gadgets--and he doesn't even possess any powers.'_

"I have my friends," I whisper, my head buried within my arms, which are supported by my knees. I hear my own mind laughing at me and I feel the tears running down my cheeks, the violent sobs hurting my throat and chest, seeing as I have never cried before. I feel hurt and abandoned. "Robin told me I would never be replaced; that no one could ever take my place." I remember his face, smiling at me with affection. I remember the warm sun and the cool wind. I remember feeling happy beyond my wildest dreams, glad that they would not replace me.

"_No one could ever take_ your _place, Star._" I remember those words; they are engraved forever in my heart.

I feel anger and disbelief course through me. "No!" I yell, my entire body quaking with emotion. "No! They are my friends! I believe in them! They'd _never_ do that to me--never!" My voice is echoing through the darkening horizon but I do not care. Before the voice can make a mockery of my words, I leap from the rooftop and dive until I reach the Game Room window. Without another thought (thankfully), I crash through the "impenetrable" glass and speed towards the safe haven of my bedroom, where I can battle with my own demons in sleep.

**--[Teen Titans]--**

**[**Main (Rec.) Room, Titan Tower**]**

I'll be the first to admit that I didn't much care for Starfire when I first joined the Titans. I didn't much care for _anyone_, really, except perhaps Robin, but only just--I could barely _tolerate_ the lot of them. Beast-boy was just too goofy, Cyborg too light-hearted, and Starfire too . . . naïve? Smiley? Optimistic? Yes, she was unused to many things, but it didn't stop her from being irritating when she asked questions like "Is 'sex' _really_ what they call the mating ritual on this planet?" or "Why does Earth have an O-Zone layer? How can you benefit from the joys of Solar Energy when you cannot even harness its power to its fullest extent?"

She was too happy, too innocent, too naïve, and way too optimistic for my tastes but . . . she grew on me. The jubilant Tamaranian girl actually grew on me, and when _that_ happened, I knew it was only a matter of time before I started to care for the others; Robin's determination, Beast-boy's attempts at light banter, Cyborg's sarcasm and, later, Terra's unique personality and friendliness.

I grew to care for them. If I was completely honest, I could even go as far as to say I loved them all dearly. They were the only friends I've ever had and, in the deep recesses of myself where I am allowed to feel freely, I cherish them. I'd die for them and not regret it. I'd go through any lengths to make sure they're safe. When they're sad, I try to say something inspiring to get them up again. When they're desolate, I try to give them some kind of companionship, even though my presence seems to spark a gloomy atmosphere.

So, when one of them comes crashing through the Main Room window, it is understandable that I accidentally break any nearby dishes in my sudden shock and worry.

I _have_ noticed the Tamaranian's sudden reclusive tendencies. Looking back on it, perhaps it was unwise of me to let her be--but there is nothing I can do about that now. I could not help that my mind was in another place, trying desperately to decipher a reoccurring vision I've been having these many nights. Maybe I should have paid more attention to my friends, but, again, it cannot be helped now.

I guess I took it for granted that Robin's usually the one to get her out of a "funk" (as Beast-boy calls it).

Holding the com-link, I signal the four Titans still out scourging the city. This is probably the first time I've ever used this thing other than for a criminal, and it feels odd using it to contact my friends while I'm still inside the Tower. On the small screen, I see Terra, Robin, Cyborg and Beast-boy on a mini four-way split screen, each one wearing various expressions of anxiety and worry. Robin looks downright angry. I find myself hoping he does not take his anger out on Starfire; he's been so determined find Slade, he's kept his emotions pent up for far too long.

I know all about pent-up emotions.

Robin's voice is firmest of the four as he speaks over Cyborg's brilliant invention. "Raven! Are you okay? Have you found her? Or has the alarm gone off?"

I shake my head no. "I'm fine--she's here, on the rooftop," I say, but then I remember: "Well, actually, she _was_ on the rooftop; she just crashed through the Main Room window." It should've been nothing to use my powers to fix the broken window and dishes, but the effort is more than I am used to for a task so small; I feel my knees weaken and give out, collapsing to the ground limply. _'What's wrong with me?'_ A wave of dizziness makes my head swim painfully. My hands let go of the com-link, the muscles weak and tired. I don't hear them calling my name, their voices high in their frantic states.

I never felt the floor as it rushed up and slammed into me.

**--[Teen Titans]--**

**[**Starfire's Room, Titan Tower**]**

I have never felt a pain so deep--so hot. It feels as though flames are blazing through my body and shards of glass are racing through my veins; everything hurts so much. Even the tears that sting my eyes hurt. In this abysmal state of misery, I cannot even open my eyes.

Everything is dark.

I am in my room, but even _this_ place, once so familiar, is so foreign to me now. The drapes of lilac and purple are invisible to me, my beloved collection of stuffed animals—gone. Even when I have opened my eyes there is nothing to see, for the sun has now deserted me, and no light shines through my closed window. My walls, once an inviting shade of purple and pink, were darkened to an unforgiving shade of ebony. Finding the light switch was a task I could not accomplish--I could not even find my bed.

I crashed to the ground, holding my throbbing cranium between fisted hands. I let out something that sounded like a gasp, a long, black tendril of smoke slithering from my chest and hovering above me. Another emerged from within me, followed by another and another. Little by little, a cloud began to form above me, but it hurt too much to move so I could not look up to see it. I felt its darkness shudder through me, invisible winds fluttering through my hair.

_"I control you."_

The voice was not mine, and yet it came from my lips. I felt something moving inside my head and the pain intensified tenfold. I felt the sweat drop from my brow when I doubled over, supporting my upper body with my forearms. My hands grabbed viciously at my hair in an attempt to quell the battle waged within, but it was in vain. A scream tore from my throat. Tears cascaded down my sweaty cheeks, sobs quieting my screams of anguish. I did nothing when those invisible winds tossed everything within my room about, furniture and papers swirling around in a cyclone-like fashion. A roar blasted through my ears.

_ "Give in; you will not win."_

Again, I spoke the words, but the voice was not my own. Whatever it was, came from within me. I tried to fight it--but how can you fight yourself? I could not hold it back. Whatever it was snuck the black vines through me, my spine erupting in a violent bout of shuddering and shivering. I tossed back my head and screamed for all I was worth, every molecule of agony and defeat resounding through that one, ear-splitting syllable.

When darkness filled my vision this time, I welcomed it, the soothing feeling of nothingness enveloping me within its comforting depths. I never even felt the floor when I fell forward, my limbs as useless as a rag doll.

**--[End Chapter Two]--**


	3. Chapter III: The Unknown

**Worth Fighting for**

**A Teen Titan Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter III: The Unknown**

**[**Starfire's Room, Titan Tower**] **

_"I am your only Salvation."_

No, I will not give in. I refuse to let myself give in. I do not know who it is that has taken over me, but he will _not _win. No matter how hard he fights, or how convincing he sounds—he will _not_ have me.

_"Embrace me, child; there is no other choice." _Whispers like a gentle caress; soothing the aches and pains that have surrounded me. It is like taking a hot shower on a cold Winter day; like the sweet tang of freedom after years of slavery. Those dark tendrils began to slither through me like snakes of relief, spreading calm and peace throughout my entire being. Like a breath of fresh air, it drove away the chaos that haunted me.

_"Yes, child, embrace me—embrace my spirit. I can give you so much more than earthly possessions and false notions of love. I am the only one you can trust." _Another caressing tendril of black energy touched my face, wiping away my tears; I had not known I was crying. _"Do you honestly believe the others would accept you, knowing you bear my essence within your own spirit—do you believe they will trust you?" _I feel my heart breaking. A part of me is shocked that I dare put my faith in a being that is plainly evil, but another part of me realizes that he speaks the truth; when Raven had a lapse in control, the other Titans (Beast-boy, namely) did not know whether or not to trust her. If they knew what I had unknowingly acquired . . . I do not think even Robin would accept me.

Would he?

_"No, he will not. Robin is weak-minded, as are the others—but you . . . you outshine even the brightest star. Do not fight me, Starfire. Accept it._ _Accept_ me._"_

"No!" I cry, covering my ears in an attempt to block out the horrible growls and snarls. "Robin is _not_ weak! He is stronger—much stronger than you! He will know that I never meant to obtain your blackened soul, and he will always care for me!" I say the words loudly, partly to convince myself that this being is pure evil—I will never bow down to it. "They are my friends," I say fiercely. "They will never abandon me."

_"Ignorant fool!"_ He bellows, and my ears ring from the sheer volume of the shout. _"You may think your friends love you—but watch as everything you care for perishes! I will make you beg—I will make you _nothing,_ Koriand'r of Tamaran!" _

Again, that awful wind—those awful howls of rage. I curl into a ball, crying as pain consumes me again, my insides feeling as if they were being ripped apart. Distantly, I heard a voice call my name, but I could not answer—did not know how. I want to run away from this pain, to cry until I was bare and had nothing left in me to cry further. I wish for my friends, and pray to _X'Hal_, the feline goddess of Tamaran, for strength and guidance; I need it now more than ever.

"Robin. . ." I needed _him_ too.

**[Teen Titans]**

**[**Elevators, Titan Tower**]**

"Why is it that the girls _always_ seemed to get attacked?"

"Shut up," growled the only blonde—and female—amongst the group of Titans. She was irritable and cranky, bags forming under her sapphire eyes, hair tussled and wild.

The changeling did not look much better. "What? Not my fault females have naturally weaker constitutions." Had the green teenager had some sleep—or food, at least—he would have realized how stupid it was to have said that. Later, he would say he should have seen it coming, but did not. In fact, he didn't even realize he'd been tackled until Terra had straddled him and began choking his slender green neck. Lack of sleep and nourishment seemed to have affected her as well; her eyes were bloodshot.

It was a grumpy Cyborg that pried the hissing blonde from Beast-boy, placing her beside him and away from the little green man. He was silent, stewing in his own thoughts and concerns. He ignored the two bickering beside him, but made sure no more attempts of death were made. In front of Cyborg stood the Titan leader, Robin. His arms were crossed and though his eyes were unreadable due to his mask, his brows were furrowed enough to reveal his troubled thoughts. The Elevator could not move fast enough for any of them. As each second ticked by, they suddenly cursed the many levels of their home, worry and concern for Starfire—and for Raven, who'd mysteriously fainted during communication on the T-com-link—making them antsy and anxious.

At last—at long last—they reached the Recreation and Information level. As one, they tried to rush out of the door—only to collide painfully into each other and fall backwards without any success. Moaning, the titans helped each other up, grabbing various body parts that had been hit too hard. Robin was the first to head out, the others hot on his heels—even if Beast-boy _was_ limping and Cyborg's arm had somehow come off in the confusion.

Lying motionless in the middle of the Rec. Room was Raven, her outstretched hand still limply holding the com-link she'd used earlier. Her violet hair surrounded her unnaturally pale face. For once, they noted, she did not look dark and invincible; instead, she looked vulnerable and . . . well, _human_. Robin and Beast-boy knelt on opposite sides of the unmoving spellcaster, sharing the same thoughts as the others: What was wrong with her?

She did not stay immobile, however; within a few breaths, her eyes had opened, their violet depths shimmering with drowsiness and confusion. With a grunt, she sat up; leaning back on one hand with dizziness overcame her. "How long was I out for _this_ time?" She asked, her monotone choked with irritation.

"I'd say . . . about fifteen to twenty minutes; that's how long it took us to get here." It was Robin that answered. "How are you feeling?"

Raven raised a hand to hold her forehead. "Like Cyborg just fell on me," she answered, earning a "_Hey!_" from said half-robot. "Other than that, I'm fine."

"What happened anyway?" It was Beast-boy who asked, curious.

"I was using my powers to fix the window and I just . . . passed out." Raven looked lost, which did not comfort her fellow Titans. "Fixing a window is _not_ supposed to drain me," she muttered, voicing a well-shared thought. She shook her head, visibly dismissing the disturbing fact for another time as she turned to Robin. "Starfire should be in her room; I think she was in pain."

While it was obvious the masked young man wanted to rush off to see to the Tamaranian's welfare, he also did not want to abandon Raven in her current "condition". Raven, easily reading his dilemma, scowled at him. "I'm_ fine_ Robin—Go!" After a second, he nodded, walking so as not to seem too eager; then bursting into a full-out run after turning a corner. He couldn't seem to get to her room fast enough, worry escalating through him. _'What's going_ on _in this place?'_ He thought, finally making it to her door. When he tried to open it, however, it wouldn't budge.

"Starfire?" He pounded on the door.

Nothing.

He pushed and pulled, but the door refused to open even the smallest inch. It felt as if someone were leaning against the door, keeping him from going to Starfire. He called to her again, putting all of his strength into the immovable door—before nearly falling forward when it suddenly burst open.

It took his mind a moment to process what his eyes told him—and coming from one as sharp and quick as he, that was really saying something.

Walls, once painted with uplifting shades of purple, pink, and blue were darkened horribly; even _Raven_ did not have black-colored walls. Stuffed animals were tossed around like confetti, a severed bear's head lying grossly before him on a floor tainted as black as the walls. Even the bed—which he knew had once been purple (he'd been the one she'd dragged with her to _buy_ it)—that had been upturned and ripped apart viciously was that depressing black.

_'Solving mysteries is something we're supposed to do out _there _in __Jump__City__—_not _in our own home,'_ he thought grimly, crossing the threshold and inspecting the eerily darkened room. "Starfire?" He called out quietly. His eyes were taking a while to adjust. When they did, he noticed the only splattering of color in the whole room lying on the floor, curled in a shivering ball of tan, red, and purple.

"Starfire!?"

At the sound of her name, the young Tamaranian lifted her head and looked at him, her emerald eyes unseeing for a heart-wrenching second. He knew the exact moment she recognized him; she leapt up and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing and shaking as if her entire world had fallen apart. "Robin!" She cried into the crook of his neck. She said nothing else and continued to cry, Robin holding her tightly as the alien girl curled up against him. In her state, he knew she wouldn't be able to answer anything, and so he sat down on what was left of her window seat, stroking her silky hair as he whispered words of reassurance into the crimson tresses. He did not know what was wrong, but knew he'd do everything in his power to make it right—whatever it was. He promised her this and the sobs quieted, her shivering not so violent.

"I am sorry," she whispered, her voice soft and hoarse from crying so hard. "I did not mean to—"

"Don't be sorry, Star," he told her, letting her loosen her hold on him. "But what happened? It's not like you to disappear for hours at a time—or paint your room black . . . or tear up everything, for that matter."

"I-I. . ." She looked unsure.

"You can tell me anything, Star. Remember?"

She sniffled and wiped away the tears that stained her face, offering him a small smile. He knew it was forced. "Would it be acceptable if I were to drink some sweet Herbal Tea—I suddenly crave its substance. Perhaps to calm myself?"

As if he would deny _her_, of all people. "Of course, Star—it's always helped Raven. It'll help you too, I think." He wouldn't get any answers from her today and so he pushed away the disappointment. She disentangled herself from him and stood as he got to his feet. The drastic change of her room did not seem to affect her at all, which was weird, in his opinion, but he figured she would tell him when she was ready—he did not want to cause her anymore undue stress.

Walking down the corridor he'd run down earlier in his haste to get to Starfire, a memory resurfaced . . . one he did not want to remember. It was of the brief time he'd spent as Red X—as Slade's apprentice. He and Starfire had faced off, he remembered with dread, the image of her sad but determined face etched within his mind's eye forevermore. God, he hated that memory—hated that he'd had to fight against Starfire. In part, that memory was what had made his friendship with Starfire (the others as well, but Starfire was different) that much more special to him. It was what gave him this inexplicable drive to do anything and everything in his power to make sure she was always her happy and upbeat self.

But how was he supposed to do so now, when he didn't even know what was wrong?

They arrived in the Recreation room quietly. Starfire flew over to the kitchen and began making her desired Herbal Tea, Robin watching on in concern, his brows furrowed. Over by the window meditated an irritated Raven, who growled at Beast-boy to stop asking if she was okay because if he didn't, she'd make sure he'd "never be _'okay'_" again in his life. Beast-boy, of course, stopped asking questions and began making fun of Cyborg's driving skills in Crash Team Racing.

Robin was oddly thankful they'd gone back to normal; he could almost believe nothing was wrong. Feeling mentally exhausted, Robin sauntered over to the couch—almost sitting on Terra—and plopped down, his hands covering his face in a vain attempt to understand everything_._ It didn't work—at all. In fact, it only made everything worse, because his emotions clouded up everything and he vaguely wondered if his former mentor was right in thinking emotions only got in the way._ 'C'mon, Boy Wonder,' _he scolded himself. _'Why is it you can figure out everything else in the world, but you can't even figure out what's wrong with those closest to you?' _It irritated him to no end and he felt like bashing his head against the glass windows.

"Dude, you look like Hell just froze over," commented Beast-boy worriedly. "You find Star okay?"

He gestured behind him to the kitchen, his hands dropping limply to his lap. "She's making some Herbal Tea."

Beast-boy looked shocked. "_She knows how to make Herbal Tea?!_"

He shrugged, unable to even laugh at Beast-boy's comical face. Sighing, he leaned back, facing the high ceiling. "Apparently."

Beast-boy looked back, observing the Tamaranian for a long while. The changeling was silent for a few minutes before saying. "Did she say what happened? Like why we had to search for her for almost a_ whole_ day? Or why she looks like she's been through a car-wreck?"

Robin shook his head in defeat. "Not a damn thing." He felt helpless and utterly useless; what was the use of being a superhero when you couldn't even help out your best friend in her time of need? What was the use of having so much knowledge when you couldn't even figure out what was going on in your own home? What was the point? "She'll tell me when she's ready," he said quietly, missing the look Beast-boy shot his way. Deep down, however, his instincts told him something was different about this one. He and Starfire would always tell each other everything—the only issue was their past; only bits and pieces were known, yet never confirmed—but this time . . . somehow, he had a feeling this wasn't the end of it. Not by a long shot.

"I need an aspirin," he said to no one and he shuffled out of the room, worry and self-degradation swirling about him like a cloud he couldn't escape.

**[End Chapter Three]**


	4. Chapter IV: Arrival

**Worth Fighting for**

**A Teen Titan Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter IV: Arrival**

**[**Corner Booth, Restaurant**]**

"You animals—how can you _eat_ that stuff?" Said the disgusted changeling, biting into his delicious salad.

In a last ditch effort to alleviate the disturbingly dark atmosphere of Titan Tower, both Beast-boy and Cyborg had put aside their differences (and the insults, and the jokes, and the remote, and the controller. . .) to join forces with Terra and come up with an idea to relieve some stress and bring the sunshine back in their home, for even Starfire had not smiled in days.

Their idea? A Titan day off.

At first, Robin had objected, arguing that they had tons of work to do. Raven had sided with their leader, telling them that a day off would do nothing but leave the Tower unprotected and lower their guards. When Starfire's opinion had been asked, she'd said nothing and floated off somewhere, not to reappear for another few hours. This had only strengthened their resolve to lighten up the mood among the Titans. Cyborg had argued that his new security system was foolproof, and that not even a fly would be able to get past it. Beast-boy told them that it was only a day off—"As in _twenty-four hours_, dude! It won't kill you to take a break once in a while"—what harm could a little fun do? Besides, if necessary, their com-links were set to activate if anything happened in their absence.

After a long, drawn out argument, both Robin and Raven relented, giving in after Terra's declaration of "you look like Hell anyway, Robin—either you get laid or get out; it's as simple as that."

And so, here they were; in the corner booth of a high-class restaurant with great food, great service and—so far—great results. The only problem that had presented itself was—"Seriously, how can you eat that when you know it was once alive? Damn carnivores. . ." The green-colored Titan looked disgusted, glaring at Terra, who was eating a rather large plate of steak, fries, shrimp, and chicken fingers. "And coleslaw—mega-_mondo_-yummy!" It was Beast-boy's worst nightmare.

"Technically, we're _omni_vores, B.B—we eat both vegetation _and_ meat," said the smirking masked Titan, obviously savoring his large, juicy burger. Of course, a gulp of milk accompanied the large bite, followed by a few ketchup-drenched fries. On his left was Cyborg, chomping away happily on a full rack of barbecued prime ribs, topped with the world's best barbecue sauce—and on his right sat Raven, who slowly ate her spaghetti-and-meatballs, her manner much more refined than that of most of her teammates. Beside Raven was Beast-boy and, of course, Terra sat next to him. Completing the circle was Starfire, who was picking at her food—which was an uncharacteristically normal meal of an entire chicken (fried) with various sauces and side-dishes around it.

"Smartass," muttered Beast-boy, chewing on a cucumber slice.

"I'll take that as a compliment," said Robin, emphasizing his words by taking another bite from his burger.

"Hey," said Terra around a mouthful of masticated cow. "Did you guys know—" she chewed some more before continuing "—that we're, like, the center of attention?"

Terra's offhand statement made them all freeze. As one, they took in their surroundings, noticing the many stares they were receiving and the hooded—but all too obvious—glances that were thrown their way. Creeped out, the Titans went back to eating, trying not to notice the heat that prickled the back of their neck from so many eyes on them; Terra munched away in glorious oblivion.

"That's just creepy," commented Beast-boy, twirling around a carrot-stick. "It's like they've never seen superheroes before."

"You okay, Star?" Robin's voice brought everyone's attention to the Tamaranian, who had barely eaten a single bite since they'd ordered. Her large eyes rocketed to his before meeting the others', purposefully eating a mouthful of chicken and coleslaw. "I am fine," she chirped in a voice dripping with poisoned honey; she was lying again. She chewed the large amount of food in her mouth, washing it all down with a gulp of lemon-lime soda. "See? Nothing is wrong; please, continue with your meals." Determination glittering in her eyes, she began attacking her chicken with her fork, as if battling little evil poultry demons in her food.

Robin met Cyborg and Beast-boy's gaze, the undercurrent of worry pervading their lightened mood. Raven watched the redhead carefully until it was certain she wouldn't look up—then returned to her meal, pondering. Terra, of course, ate happily, too engorged with the delicious foods before her to really pay attention to the world around her.

For the rest of the meal, Cyborg and Beast-boy attempted to bring up the mood, bantering stupidly with each other until they at least made Robin and Terra chuckle. They each pitched in to pay the bill—everyone lightening up even more when Starfire acted normal (for _her_, anyway) and confused _tip_ with_ lip_, wondering "why would a waiter want our lips? Is this another one of your Earth customs, Robin? I have never heard of it. . ."—and left for the amusement park, Terra and Beast-boy immediately pairing off and, after grabbing a reluctant Raven, ran off to the rollercoaster with the spellcaster protesting vehemently the entire way with cries of "I don't want to be stuck between you two for a _second_—let alone five minutes!" and "Why are you dragging me along for one of your dates—I refuse to witness the kissing (Ugh, the kissing) and any other things you two do; leave me alone! Beast-boy, I will kill you—_LET GO OF ME!_"

Windows broke, random objects exploded, and a car drove straight through a house somewhere down the road . . . but Raven was not released, and the two fun-loving teens seemed hell-bent on making the dark Titan have some fun—come Hell or high water (or, in this case, whether she was willing or not).

After laughing at Raven's expense, Cyborg caught sight of a certain ride and gushed like a little boy. "Bumper Cars! Rob, Star—I'll see ya'll later!" And off he went, galloping to the nearest car as fast as his mechanically enhanced legs could carry him. This, conveniently, left the Titan leader alone with the redhead Tamaranian girl and, for the first time ever, he didn't know what to say. A quiet, gloomy Starfire was _not_ normal and he wished desperately he knew what was wrong with her; he missed her smiles and her innocent naivety. The laughter, the twinkle in her eyes, the bone-crunching hugs, the alien recipes, the quirky questions—all of it . . . _gone_. Replaced by this soulless creature who, although bore her identically beautiful countenance, was not _his_ Starfire.

This Starfire did not smile, nor laugh. She did not scream bloody murder when Beast-boy accidentally played a prank on her meant for Cyborg or Raven. She did not hum while cook—in fact, she did not even cook any more. This Starfire did not brighten up the room with her unearthly bubbliness. Instead, this Starfire looked as dead as a zombie, floating around with her shoulders sagging horribly as if the weight of the world had fallen upon her.

Even _Raven_ was more alive than the girl beside him, who even seemed smaller now that he thought about it . . . or maybe he'd had a growth spurt? Who knew—he didn't, and that's what had him in knots; the fact that he didn't even know what was going on within his own home.

Life truly sucked sometimes.

"Hey Star," he decided to say, earning the girl's attention. "I know your stuffed animals are all . . . well—" He stopped at her wince. The scene that had greeted him after searching for the Tamaranian girl for more than thirteen hours would not soon leave him—her room and furniture in shambles, everything as black as obsidian, pieces of stuffed animals strewn around like gruesomely deformed corpses. . . "You wanna start up your collection again?"

For the first time in a week and a half, Starfire looked at him with that twinkle in her emerald orbs, a genuine smile playing on her lips. "Thank you Robin." Her voice was filled with emotion, and he got the impression that it wasn't just for the offer that she was thanking him for.

"No problem," he said, smiling. "C'mon, there's a stand over—"

"No Robin," she stopped him, her hands on his arm as she looked up at him—her looking up at him . . . it was odd, as she was usually the tallest of the pair. "I do not merely speak of your offer . . . I-I . . . Robin. . ." She looked ready to cry and Robin immediately moved to comfort her, grabbing her hand in his gloved one. She gripped him like a lifeline, both of her hands seizing his one. Her eyes seemed to convey a message of despair that had him wondering what could ever scare or worry her so much. He clasped her hand tighter.

"You can tell me anything, Star; don't ever forget that."

"Robin, there is something that . . . I do not know if you will continue to be my friend if I were to tell you."

_'Oh God no. Please no—not you Star, please not you. . .' _He prayed with all of his might. "Starfire, if you're going to tell me that you're in league with Slade. . ." _'Then I'd rather not know because I'd lose it.'_

Those large eyes of hers grew wide with confusion and then, with a smile he'd sorely missed, she laughed, showing her abnormally sharp canines—not Beast-boy sharp, but sharper than any ordinary human's—in her mirth. Relaxing, he allowed himself a smile, freeing his hand from her grip to scratch the back of his neck in embarrassment. She wiped tears from her eyes, saying, "No, Robin, I would _never_ join Slade; not in a million Tamaranian revolutions!"

"Oh." He hoped his cheeks weren't as flushed as he imagined. "Then what? What could possibly make me want to stop being friends with you, Star?" Now that the embarrassment had passed, he was genuinely curious; would she finally tell him what had had happened so many days ago during her odd disappearance? He was sorry the smile wilted from her face, but he_ had_ to know. She looked down, scuffing the front of her purple boot on the ground, her hands clasped behind her back like a nervous, anxious child. Her waterfall of hair hid her face from view.

"Robin," she said, looking up with raw determination shining in ever inch of her figure. Even her shoulders straightened. "Many days ago, I was contemplating a few aspects of the Tamaranian life cycle. Such as why we are able to harness Solar energy."

"You mean, like your starbolts?"

It was her turn to scratch the back of her neck. "No, that is . . . my sister and I are the only ones of our race able to harness energy in the form of a weapon." She looked hesitant all of a sudden.

"How come?" He was most likely side-tracking her story, but he couldn't help it; he'd never heard the entire story of her past.

"That is . . . it is a story not worth telling," she said quietly. "It was the result of a duty my sister and I were required to perform." She said nothing more on the subject and Robin stored the data away for another time, making sure that he heard every detail of what she said. "All Tamaranians can harness Solar energy into flight. My sister was not able to do so at a young age, and was considered crippled by our people. She grew angry and vengeful and. . ." Apparently, this story was not going the way she wanted it to.

She tried again. "What I am trying to tell you, Robin, is that, since Ancient Times, there has been a . . . _darkness_ within my people. A shadow. It is why, I believe, the Goddess _X'Hal_ gave us the gift to harness energy of the sun; so that we may be able to fight this darkness. At some point in our life cycles, it grows stronger, depending on the environment, and we must choose what path we must take; good or evil. My sister chose a more . . . rebellious side, I suppose, but I do not believe she is evil—we shared many good and happy times when I was a child," she said with a small smile. Robin was hanging off of every word. "But Richard, I. . ." Again, she faltered and, this time, it seemed she was at a loss for words—her use of his real name making her distress even more evident. Robin was having the same problem, processing all of what she'd just said into his ever-calculating mind. Never had she volunteered so much information about her background at one time, and all of it seemed infinitely fascinating to him.

However. There was something wrong with Starfire, and now was not the time to pry endlessly with questions about her heritage and past just to satisfy his natural thirst for mystery—now was the time for Richard Grayson . . . her friend. For her confidante and proverbial (and, if necessary, literal) shoulder to lean on. "What is it, Kori?" It had been a long, _long_ while since he'd called her by her real name, but it felt oddly familiar on his tongue, as if he'd spoken it a thousand times before.

She grabbed his hand again. "I fear that perhaps I—"

"Robin! We got incoming—someone broke into Titan Tower!"

Robin felt an unnatural (and, admittedly, unfair) hatred towards Cyborg at that moment. The large half-robot probably had no idea of what he'd just interrupted, but Robin felt the anger just the same. Without meaning to, his grip on Starfire's hand tightened. It took him a moment to reign in his anger. Inhaling deeply, he told Cyborg to tell the others and to meet him and Starfire at the Tower. "That way, at least, it'll give us the element of surprise if it _is_ Slade."

"If? What makes you think it's anyone else?" Asked Cyborg incredulously.

Robin shook his head. "Just go, Cy—we'll meet you there."

"Gotcha—and Rob?"

"Yeah?"

"Save some for me when you get there, 'kay?"

Robin smiled at him. "You got it." He turned to Starfire. "Star, you think you can—" Before he even finished the sentence, she had grabbed a hold on his forearm and was pulling him higher and higher into the air, the wind cool and strong against his skin. If the occasion had not been an urgent one, he would have reveled in the feeling of soaring so high above everyone and everything as light as a feather. "Starfire," he called to her once they were almost half-way there.

"Yes, Robin?"

"Promise me we'll continue our conversation as soon as this is over."

"Robin, I—"

"Promise me, Star." His voice was stronger than he meant it to be.

There was a pause before, "Yes, I promise you."

He smiled at her, earning a weak one in return. From behind them, they heard voices and shouts that sounded a lot like . . . "Beast-boy! Stop moving around so much—it's hard concentrating with you tickling me!" Both Robin and Starfire looked back. Coming up quickly was Terra and Cyborg riding large boulders with Raven and Beast-boy (as a, humorously enough, raven) flying beside them, her hood having flown back and revealing her displeased face. Apparently, she was not only unhappy with Terra and Beast-boy, but also angry at the fact that she'd been right about leaving the Tower defenseless—"Impenetrable Security System indeed," she growled at Cyborg, who rolled his eyes.

"Hey Star; you can drop Robin—I'll bring one of the boulders under him," offered Terra, and Starfire nodded, doing as instructed and letting Robin go when a boulder, surrounded by a faint yellow aura, hovered below him. They shared a look for a brief moment before focusing on the task at hand: "C'mon Titans, let's go!" Said the leader, with Cyborg following close behind with, "Yeah! We gotta show this intruder just _why_ it's called Titan Tower!"

Inspired, they went as quick as possible to their home, determination written clearly in their features. As they neared their island, they saw a huge hole in the windows that would look into the Recreation Room roughly the size of five elephants combined. Within mere moments, they jumped through the large whole and into the darkened room, each poised in their own individual fighting stances. None of them could really see too much in the eerie darkness until Starfire's eyes lit up, allowing her to see perfectly. She emitted a small, startled gasp.

"What is it, Starfire?" Asked Robin, facing her.

It was not she, however, that answered. "For all your skills and technology, it's surprisingly easy to break into the home of the legendary Titans." A small chuckle. "A pity; I was hoping for a challenge. So," came the body-less voice. "Are you ready to finish what we started?"

**[End of Chapter Four]**


	5. Chapter V: Control

**Worth Fighting For**

**A Teen Titans Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter V: Control**

**[**Main (Rec.) Room, Titan Tower**]**

To say that the Titans were shocked would be an extreme understatement. They gaped openly at the figure lounging normally on the long black couch, having expected to meet Slade and his ever-annoying minions. In fact, they'd been _counting_ on finding Slade there—there was not one Titan that did not want to take him down. The adrenaline and determination seemed to flush out of their systems in their unanimous surprise, for no one had ever thought to hear that purring, manipulative voice ever again.

"Komand'r," breathed Starfire, calling her by her true name.

"Koriand'r," returned the raven-haired vixen, her purple-black eyes glittering wickedly.

"Dude, wasn't she supposed to be in some alien jail? Centaurian or something like that?" Beast-boy couldn't seem to get over his shock. _'What the Hell is Blackfire doing here?'_

"Beast-boy," Terra whispered to the changeling. "Who's that?"

"That's Blackfire," he whispered back. "Starfire's sister. She's _mega_ bad news—I'll explain it to you later."

Instead of speaking English, the two siblings began speaking in their native tongue, the words meshing and mingling together so horribly, they might as well be saying nothing at all; none of it made any sense to the other Titans, not even Robin, whom Starfire had been teaching Tamaranian for a little while there. All they knew was that Starfire must have said something that Blackfire didn't like, for the raven-haired sister sneered at the younger one, snapping out something quickly in her language. Blackfire continued to speaking angrily in the alien tongue, once even glaring venomously at Robin, for some reason.

Starfire spoke softly, easily the calmer, more demure of the two. The elder Tamaranian said something cutting (it seemed like it, anyway) and snarled, her temper reaching its limit—her eyes began glowing a dark lavender. Starfire closed her eyes, clasping her hands before her chest in a prayer-like manner and grew quiet, as if thinking. A small breeze blew in from the gaping hole in the Tower, teasing tendrils of hair playfully in its mischievousness.

When Starfire looked up, she dropped her hands and her voice was strong as it formed a single word that they all understood. "Yes."

Blackfire responded with a growl, reverting to English as well—finally. "Then be prepared to fight for it, _Little Sister_," she spat nastily, turning an endearment into a curse. With a show of her feral fangs, she flew like a bullet from the room, a streak of violet left in her wake.

Starfire didn't move. After a long moment of silence, Beast-boy was the first to speak. "Uh . . . Star? Can you translate what just happened? Because I'm totally confused."

"I have just accepted a _Glaus R'dempten._"

"And that means . . . ?"

"It is your Earth equivalent of a 'Duel to the Death'."

**[Teen Titans]**

**[**Main (Rec.) Room, Titan Tower**]**

I never thought of Starfire as the "killing your own sister" type. She's so caring and giving that the thought just doesn't cross your mind. Sometimes I wondered how in God's creation someone like Blackfire could be the older sibling of someone as pure and innocent as Starfire. It just didn't make any sense—like that oxymoron thing Raven said Beast-boy was the other day. The only reason I remember was because B.B and I were playing on the Gamestation and, when I beat him, he called me something that didn't make sense at all.

So yeah. Starfire and Blackfire were like oxymorons. Or is it irony I'm talking about . . . ? Argh, Raven's good at this whole literature thing; point is, I would have bet every circuit in my body that Blackfire could never be Starfire's sister—it just seems so farfetched. Yeah, they looked alike (a _lot_ alike, if you thought about it), but they were so different, it's not even funny. Blackfire's like this big, manipulative rebel chick, and Starfire's like the little church girl who loves life and everything in it.

So how the Hell did this whole _Glaus__ R'dempten_ thing come about anyway? And why did Starfire accept? I mean, if we all joined together, I'm sure we'd all be able to get that two-faced alien chick back in that Centaurian jail. We did it before—or, well, _Starfire_ did before, but still—we can do it this time around, right? Ain't no need for nobody to get killed in some Tamaranian Duel to the Death. We're on Earth; didn't that make it null and void? What were the rules for this Duel anyway? Was it written in a handbook somewhere? Can we fight against it? Did Tamaranians have lawyers?

Don't get me wrong—it's not that I don't have complete faith in Starfire. It's that I do; I have complete faith in her that she'll do the right thing. She'll never be able to fight and kill her sister—that's just Starfire, and while it_ is_ the right thing to do, it may not exactly be the _healthy_ thing to do.

I wanted to tell someone these thoughts, but I knew I couldn't. Hey, they were all probably thinkin' the same thing. I looked at Robin, wondering if the guy even knew how tense and concerned he looked. "Of course; she's my friend!" He'd probably say if anyone told him, but we haven't been friends for so long for nothing, you know. When you _really_ get to know someone, you start to notice when they act out-of-character, or when they stammer and blush when a certain someone's around.

And as much as I love playing match-maker, it's kinda hard when you're afraid one of the two potential candidates might die at the hands of their own sister.

_'Calm down Cy; you don't need a meltdown,'_ I tell myself. It sort of works; I manage not to freak out, as I'm known to do on occasion.

Beside me is Beast-boy, quickly filling Terra in on the whole "Blackfire" situation. I completely forgot that Terra hadn't been there in the beginning . . . kinda hard to imagine, really. Feels like the girl's been with us forever. . . "So she betrayed her own sister?" Terra's voice was curious, with just a hint of apprehension. I heard Beast-boy confirm this and Terra went on to ask why Blackfire would do such a thing. Beast-boy, like the rest of us, had no clue.

Maybe Blackfire had a grudge against Starfire? Unlikely but . . . hey, who knew? Things were different on Tamaran. Maybe this whole thing's a misunderstanding and, after Starfire explains all of this, we can all go hang out at the carnival and B.B and Terra can go terrorize Raven some more; I know I damn sure wanted some time off. . .

I sigh, scratching my head. Whatever happened to a _normal_ day at the carnival? Honestly, every time we go to a carnival, Blackfire shows up. I'm starting to think this is a conspiracy—carnivals are evil. They _gotta_ be in league with the chick. If everything turns out fine, I'm gonna look into that . . . who knows, maybe Slade's workin' with her, and he's the one who uses the carnival as a distraction. Hey, that actually sounds plausible! What if Slade were—

Whoa. I sound like Robin when he's in his "obsession" mode. Creepy.

"I sure hope Star's alright," I say, watching my redheaded friend face her sister. This is gonna be a_ long_ night.

**[Teen Titans]**

**[**Shore, Jump City**]**

I have never hated my sister. Never. For all of her betrayal and attacks on me, I cannot hate her. How can you hate someone born from the same womb? Before, I thought she cared for me as well . . . but she has proven she does not. No sister would offer a _Glaus__ R'dempten _to her sibling—but then again, no true sister would accept, either. To say that I am hurt by her words would do the truth no justice; I am devastated. I do not think I can bear the thought of fighting my own sister again . . . never to the death. It is what I must do, I know, but it is hard.

"Are you ready to die, Little sister?" Her eyes are cruel and mocking. They sadden me further.

I am glad that Robin and the others did not hear what Blackfire and I spoke of. They would surely protest further, and it took me more than an hour previously just so that they would let me leave the Tower. If they knew the only reason I had been "suckered" into this fight was because I feared for their lives, they would argue that they were strong enough; that they could fight. And I had faith in them; but this was not about strength. This was about my own, selfish greed. If they fought and won, I would lose a sister. If my sister won, I would lose my friends. Either way, I would lose someone I cared for deeply. At least, if_ I_ am to fight, I would be able to lay the blame on myself, knowing that her blood was on my hands and not on the hands of another.

"Starfire, no; I'm not letting you do this," I remember Robin saying as he stood in front of me, his face stern and steadfast. I let the memory fill me with a sad sort of happiness, knowing that all of them cared for me—that _he_ cared for me. A stirring of determination fills me and I inhale deeply. They care for me, and I care for them . . . _this_ is why I fight—for them. For the ones I love—even Blackfire. Somehow, someway I _will_ get my old sister back; the one that joked and laughed with me back when we were children—who saved me from all sorts of dangers.

_"Your sister is dead."_

_'No,'_ I think, a tinge of fear rippling through me again. I do not need this now. The familiar shivery feeling of dark snakes sliding down my spine makes me shudder and I suddenly feel cold_. 'Control,'_ I chant in my mind desperately. _'Control it. It cannot overrun me.'_

_"But you are wrong, young one," _he says, and for once, he does not use me to speak; he remains only in my mind, but I do not know if this is a blessing or a curse. _"As you said, no true sister would ask such a thing of you. She is no sister of yours—she cannot be. Destroy her and keep the memory of your rightful sister alive. Kill this imposter and avenge the _real_ Blackfire." _I feel invisible arms of cold comfort wrap around my shivering form and I wince. _"I know it is hard, but I can give you strength; if not, this imposter will kill your friends—she will kill_ Robin._" _

At this, an odd emotion flitters through me. I cannot explain it, but it feels like raw anger and fury rippling through my palms; starbolts appear automatically, energy humming through my body_. "Yes,"_ he approves greatly; I can almost feel him smiling. _"Stop her from stealing your Robin. Stop her before she takes away everyone you love."_

In my mind I scream. I will not kill my sister—never!

Determined, I focus on my duel. My sister and I are level in the air, my friends watching us from below. She is the first to attack; I deflect by crossing my arms before me, somehow managing to create a shield with my starbolts—much like Raven's powerful shields. It is the first time I have ever done this and I am confused, however I do not have time to contemplate—Blackfire tries again. She has noticed that I will not take the offensive stance, so _she_ does instead. Like a coward, I fly away as fast as I can, soaring over the splashing waves that reflect the pale light of the stars and moon.

It is hard, dodging starbolts from behind, but I seem to do fine. Only one grazes my shoulder, but it barely stings and I do not pay attention to it. She is relentless—I knew she would be. Blackfire is an excellent fighter with superior skill and experience. I honestly have not a single clue if perhaps I would be able to defeat her . . . but somehow, I must.

X'Hal, give me strength.

Gritting my teeth together, I turn in mid-flight and launch my own barrage of projectiles at my sister, who is caught off-guard. She recovers quickly, though, and soon it is a game of who can dodge and aim perfectly at the same time. I completely ignore the monster who shares my soul—he will not bait me into killing one of my own, no matter what. My focus is complete, but I cannot celebrate my victory; my sister is a vicious opponent. After many parries and missed blasts, my aim is true and a green starbolt blasts through her shin leaving a bloody, gaping hole.

I cannot believe what I have done, but tell myself it had to be. She lets out a heart-wrenching cry of pain and I feel like crying—I have injured my own sister. Panicking, I move to fly to her, but her eyes are murderous and she runs away from me, back to shore for whence we came. "Sister!" I plead. "Please, I am sorry! Please stop!" She does not hear, or does not care, for she continues on, flying faster than ever before. On shore she swoops down like a hawk does its prey and—

"No! Robin!" I watch helplessly as she desperately grabs my best friend and holds him by his neck high in the sky. He is struggling helplessly, flailing against an opponent with far more strength and skill. "You told me this fight was between _us_ Blackfire; leave my friends out of this!" As predicted, Raven flies up to us, joining the airborne battle. Terra, controlling several boulders, flies up on a large chunk of rock, Beast-boy and Cyborg standing on two of said boulders. They are as furious as I feel, and righteously so; a _Glaus__ R'dempten _cannot involve more than the two initial participants—if so, it is no longer _Glaus__ R'dempten _and therefore, the violator of the rules is the loser.

"_Blackfire_?" She repeats mockingly. "You have never called me by my name before; you must_ really_ like this boy." She smiles sadistically, even though I know her leg must pain her greatly. She is trying to manipulate me, I know, but she will not succeed.

"Let him go!" I feel anger course through me like never before. "You have broken the first rule of _Glaus__ R'dempten, _Sister; you lose." I want to hurt her more, make her pay for the pain Robin is going through; she is squeezing his windpipe, not allowing him to breathe. He is holding onto her wrists in an attempt to pry himself free. I no longer care that I am slowly and gradually letting the black tendrils of dark energy manipulate my thoughts; she is hurting my best friend—she must be stopped. "_Let him go!_" I feel the eyes of the others on me. They have never seen me so angry, but can they blame me? She is threatening Robin.

She must—

_"—Die." _

My sister grins. "As you wish."

She lets go.

Without thinking, I fly as fast as I can towards his falling form, my heart hammering in my chest; it is too high up. Even with his cape, if he falls, he will die. When I feel my fingers wrap around his gloved ones, I want to cry with relief. He looks up at me and gives me a smile of gratitude that makes my heart flutter, and not from the adrenaline rush. Thankfully, Terra had brought a large boulder over so that he can land on safely—I place him there and he thanks me. I tell him it is nothing, but he looks alarmed, his gaze no longer on my face.

"_Look out!_"

It was my fault, I know. I should have known my sister would have a scheme—she is, after all, brilliant. She's a wonderful strategist, but I was too worried for Robin's safety—I did not think of my own. At least, not until I felt something sharp and burning rip a gigantic hole through my chest, tearing and disintegrating my heart in the literal sense. Numbly, I raised a hand to the wound, pulling it away to see blood spilling into my palm like an eerie waterfall. I continued to watch it, as if it were not me bleeding, but someone else . . . after what seemed like long hours, my hand grew fuzzy. I looked up to see Robin's face, shocked and afraid, going in and out of focus. I heard screams as if they were far away—were they calling my name?

I do not know. My mouth made no sound; my ears heard nothing but muted voices. I could not see. And then, after sucking in a dry, rasping breath, it was I who fell, not Robin, into the clear-blue waters below.

**[End of Chapter Five]**


	6. Chapter VI: Come Back

**Worth Fighting For**

**A Teen Titan Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter VI: Come Back**

**[**Shore, Jump City**]**

_"STARFIRE!"_

As one, the Titans screamed the single name like a primal battle cry, their gazes locked onto the plummeting figure of the alien girl. Too shocked to move, they watched her disappear into the violent waves below, the frantic Titan leader diving off of his floating boulder and swimming after her. Neither Titan reemerged.

"_TITANS!_" Roared the mechanical giant, fury written clearly in his human features. "_Let's get this bitch!_" None of them paused to think about Cyborg's words; they'd never heard him use such a vulgar word for a female, no matter what kind of person they were. It was a small testament to the pain and pure anger that ripped through them all that they would display their hatred for an enemy (or anyone) with vulgarity. As a single unit, they attacked; sporadic, unorganized, and instinctive. Even Raven could not control her emotions, causing severe damage to the landscape around her as she tried to focus intently on the slippery, agile Tamaranian that laughed menacingly—laughed at the death of her sister; at their angry attempts at revenge. The bloody wound on her leg did not seem to affect her at all; she looked as if she enjoyed taunting them.

"No wonder she felt drawn to you," the seductress purred, easily dodging a blast from Cyborg's Sonic Cannon. "You're all so very _weak!_" To emphasize her point, she blasted the boulder from beneath Terra's feet. Terra easily saved herself with another, larger rock, but it was plain to see that the blonde was a bit shaken. In retaliation, Beast-boy attacked the alien wench in the form of a pterodactyl, managing to cut a long jagged wound on her upper arm, his claws having pierced her armor.

"Raven—look!"

Following Terra's finger, Raven looked down on shore to catch sight of their drenched, soaking leader. "See if he found Star; We'll hold off the evil twin," said Terra and Raven nodded, rapidly lowering herself to Robin. When she reached him, he was coughing and hacking, seemingly unable to even breathe. It took a while for him to be able to even stand. She did not have to ask if he found Starfire or not—the Tamaranian was painfully absent.

". . . Couldn't . . . the waves . . . they were too . . . I couldn't find her, Rave. . ." She didn't know whether he was simply out of breath or hiding the fact that he was crying; waves of tangible sadness mingled with her own. It became obvious, however, when he ducked his head and his chest shuddered vehemently, tears visible in spite of the water that still clung to him. His gloved hands curled into tight fists, his entire frame shuddering with a deadly mixture of sadness and extreme rage. Had Robin possessed her powers at that point, she was sure the entire city would have been demolished ten times over. "She's not getting away with this," he growled in a dangerous whisper she'd never heard him speak in before; chills went down her spine. "A life for a life; I'll make her pay . . . for Starfire."

He didn't need to say anything—Raven already knew his intentions. Without saying a word, she grabbed his forearm and levitated him up to the fray where Terra was flinging two-ton boulders at the laughing murderess. Cyborg was mounted atop Beast-boy, who had kept the form of the flying dinosaur (the pterodactyl). Almost without thought, Terra levitated a large boulder for Robin, who nodded a wordless thanks and let go of Raven, who used her dark powers to try and open up the Tamaranian warrior's defense.

Dead-set on revenge, Robin took out several bird-a-rangs, aiming two for the enemy's neck and the rest for other key points on her body—the circular gadgets on the back of her hands, her heart, her knee, etc. As expected, the slithery vixen dodged them all but the one that grazed her kneecap and Robin took advantage of her painful distraction; grabbing two handfuls of exploding disks, he aimed perfectly and launched a fierce barrage of explosives at her, earning a startled cry from his victim—he smiled viciously at the sound. At that precise moment, the bird-a-rangs doubled back after missing their target—a new experimental type of gadget he'd been working on—and embedded their sharp talons into the bitch's skin, ripping yet another scream of pain from her.

The smoke from the explosions cleared, letting him bask in the wonderful sight of Blackfire moaning with more than half of her body covered with her own blood. Around him, his fellow Titans smiled evilly at the sight, which was odd—they usually did not like causing pain. But this time it was different; it was personal. She'd taken one of their own, and their very souls cried out for the murderer's blood—for_ her_ blood.

With a strangled snarl, Blackfire began ripping Robin's devices from her flesh, her jaw clenching as the actions seemed to cause her more pain than anything. There was a wild, furious glint in her slitted eyes and they knew that, this time, it would indeed be a _Glaus__ R'dempten_; the Duel to the Death that Starfire would never be able to finish.

But now_, _in honor of Starfire, they would finish the _Glaus__ R'dempten. _

And they would win.

**[Teen Titans]**

**[**A Distant Realm**]**

I have never known a silence so absolute. Not even the sound of my breath could be heard in the cavernous void I found myself floating in. Was I breathing? I could not tell. I was floating on my back, but do not know why. I opened my eyes, but all that greeted me was darkness . . . vast, endless darkness. Eyes opened or closed, I saw nothing. I cannot even conjure a starbolt for the purpose of light—I am powerless and alone. I wish for Robin . . . and then stop myself for I do not want him dead. No, never dead. . .

"The Plane of Death," I whisper, and am surprised when I can hear myself. I am stuck in between the Planes of Peace and the Planes Turmoil. On Earth, they call it 'Heaven' and 'Hell' . . . and so they would call this . . . Purgatory? Or Limbo? After all this time, I still cannot interpret the terminology perfectly, and it is frustrating. Again, I remember Robin and I feel a lump lodge itself in my throat. I pray that he is safe—that they will be immune to Blackfire's wrath. I curse myself for not having been alert, but I had been so relieved that Robin was safe . . . I should have done so many things . . . Had I known I would die this night, I would have done so many things. . . _said_ so many things. . .

But why am I here? Should I not be moving on? Perhaps I am to be Judged?

_"You were not meant to die this night."_

I gasp in shock; even in death, this creature has followed me. However, the voice is not in my head . . . it is beside me, and all around me. In the distance, piercing the inky blackness, are a double pair of yellow-slitted eyes, glowing like gemstones in this desolate place. "Why do you continue to haunt me?" I ask of those faceless eyes, and I can almost hear him smile; he chuckles, blinking.

_"Because I felt your pain, Starfire,"_ he answers softly. _"I am only here to help you. I am_ still _here to help you." _It is hard to not believe those words. And yet. . . _"You were not meant to die this night. Your sister sought to end your life and she did . . . but not for long. Embrace me, dear Starfire—embrace my power—and I shall return you to your beloved friends; I will help you fight those who seek to hurt them . . . I will make you stronger than ever before." _A warm touch falls on my shoulder. I do not flinch or cringe . . . it is the only other living being I can feel in this Plane . . . for the Dead cannot Live. I close my eyes, letting the sad truth sink in. _"No one will ever hurt you again, Koriand'r of Tamaran. I promise you this." _

"Why would you help me?"

_"Because no one as innocent as you should have been made to suffer."_ And I suddenly want to cry. It is stupid and irrationally, but I sob anyway, tears falling down my cheeks relentlessly.

Because I do not want to die alone. I do not want to _be_ alone. I want to feel the warm sun on my skin as it revitalizes me with its radiance. I want to soar high above the Earth with the birds and the clouds, the wind in my hair and happiness in my heart. I want to meditate with Raven before the grand windows of our home, sharing in the calmness of souls and focus. I want to feel pleasure as Cyborg thoroughly enjoys the meal that I have cooked, eating several plates full before requesting for desert. I want to share in the laughter that Beast-boy and Terra create with barely any effort, watching the affection they both share for each other grow and deepen.

And Robin. . .

I want to practice fighting skills and technique in the Training Room with him. I want to watch him as, completely absorbed in the task at hand, he explains to me as many Earth customs as he can, managing to be patient with me even when it is obvious I am ignorant and ask endless questions. I want to see his smile, that lopsided smirk that always sends butterflies fluttering through my lower abdomen. I want to discuss even the tiniest things with him, knowing he can understand and will always listen, even if I ramble on and on endlessly.

Robin . . . I wanted him back. More than anything.

I do not know when I became so selfish. I feel shame because of it, but cannot deny my feelings. I want so much . . . but can I ever have any of it again? Already, I miss my friends—already their absence sends me into a whirlwind of sadness and despair. It hurts so much. . .

_'Robin. . .'_

And can _he_ really bring me back? Can he really help me protect my friends better? I do not know, but I know that I would do anything for them; the Titans. They mean so much to me. . . Inhaling, I wipe away my tears, which have died down somewhat. Those eyes bore into my own and my determination is peaked—I will do what I must. I cannot continue to cry. I must be strong. For my friends, I must be strong. My decision is made.

I only hope it is the right one.

**[Teen Titans]**

**[**Shore, Jump City**]**

"How the Hell does she get stronger after almost being killed?!" Cyborg wanted to know. It hadn't seemed possible, but Blackfire had gotten more powerful, her survival instincts having come into play and making her more of a ferocious wildcat than ever before. Cyborg had to duck low on Beast-boy's back when a large beam of violet light shot at them, nearly beheading the metal giant and blasting a hole through the green pterodactyl's wing.

"A woman's wrath?!" Ventured Terra, her voice slightly hysterical in its high-pitched frequency. She was hurling chunks of Earth at the black-hared woman like rapid-fire, desperately trying to bring the aggressive alien down. Her efforts were joined by Raven who, in all of the chaos, had let her hood fall back to reveal her tousled hair and tense jaw. The midnight cape billowed behind her as she hurled every object that could put up a fight against the Tamaranian's superior strength. She faltered for a mere second—proof that she was tiring, her energy draining. If this fight did not end soon, Rage—Raven's darker side—would take over for the exhausted girl, and Lord knew what happened the last time _that_ happened.

"'Ey, B.B! Think you can take another passenger?"

"Huh?" The voice coming from the pterodactyl beneath him sounded odd, since the words were emitting from a muzzle not made for human speech. Quickly, Cyborg pointed to Raven, who seemed to be having problems staying in midair. The changeling understood immediately. While Terra could hold Raven on a boulder, it would be hard for the blonde to focus on Robin, Blackfire, _and_ Raven at the same time. Carrying Raven on Beast-boy's back would not only help Terra fight Blackfire, but would also conserve some of Raven's powers.

"Hop on, Rae!" Cyborg called to the panting spellcaster, who scowled before reluctantly taking a seat on the pterodactyl, resuming her assault with a little bit more effort and whatever energy that was left within her.

Beast-boy took the opportunity to fly above Blackfire, pecking at her exposed flesh—her armor having been destroyed with Robin's gadgets earlier—while Cyborg fired blast after blast from his Canon atop Beast-boy's neck, and Raven concentrated with all of her might whilst sitting upon his back. Below them, Robin leapt onto a telephone poll before aiming a roundhouse kick to the struggling criminal. When it connected, he landed gracefully onto the chunk of rock controlled by Terra's power and he prepared for another attack, ignoring the cramping of his muscles and the sweat that drenched his brow.

Blackfire retaliated by disintegrating the earth on which he stood. Instinct took over and he somersaulted onto one of the gigantic sloping metal pillars that helped support the suspension cables in the bridge. From beneath them, he heard startled gasps and screeching tires as dozens and dozens of people stopped traffic to watch the epic battle between the Titans and the murderess.

_'Great, now we have to worry about causalities,'_ he thought in aggravation. He leapt to the side quickly as he suddenly became Blackfire's prime target, her starbolts extremely close—he could feel the heat of them every time he dodged. He chose a rather bad spot to land because _Snap!_ went a suspension wire, followed by the terrified screams of the onlookers below. He cursed Blackfire mentally, whipping out his Retractable Bo Rod and focusing, desperately trying to calm the demons of anger and hatred that threatened to override his judgment; the broken suspension wire was proof of his dwindling concentration.

_'For Starfire.' _It was almost like a mantra. His entire being wanted to rip Blackfire apart for being so cruel as to kill her own sister. He hated himself for not reacting sooner or pushing Starfire out of the way, but he reminded himself to focus; he could mourn and grieve in peace later, but for now, he had to avenge Starfire . . . he just _had _to. He hadn't been able to save her, but damn it, he'd at least avenge her.

Taunting the raven-haired alien, he motioned for her to move forward. "Gimme your best shot." Bo Rod ready, he crouched low, prepared to pounce should she take a dive at him—which, by the way she was maneuvering, it seemed most likely. He knew she was getting desperate; in her weakened state, she was more drained than even Raven seemed to be and she was acting very much like a cornered lioness—fierce but rash and unthinking. He decided to use it to his advantage. When Blackfire dove at him like a missile, he ducked out of the way at the last minute, hitting her soundly on the head before twirling the Rod in an arc and hitting her again on an open wound that bled profusely.

Her snarl of rage was satisfying. He held the Bo Rod at ready, turning so that he fully faced her. Behind him, he heard Terra come towards them, the movement of Beast-boy's wings flapping in the night air causing a soft wind. He did not concentrate on them—his enemy hovered before him . . . at the moment, she was all he was after . . . all that mattered. Her death was his only goal. He knew he was going against everything he'd ever learned, every moral he ever had—but he could not bring himself to care. He would get justice; he would get revenge.

"For Starfire."

While his words were barely a whisper, he'd forgotten how keen the Tamaranian senses were; Starfire used to often hear his self-derisive mutterings and would scold him for them. It was no different with Blackfire—she'd heard him and grinned maliciously. He prepared himself for a verbal confrontation, focus being the only thing in his mind.

"Your _precious_ princess is dead, boy—killing me won't bring her back." Her eyes glowed ominously. Robin felt confusion grip him; Princess? What was she talking about? "I am the only one worthy of the Tamaranian throne—she was weak and naïve; she had no right to call herself a princess—a descendant of the royal bloodline!" Her voice grew louder, her resolve seemingly growing with each syllable . . . whilst Robin's disbelief grew all the while. Blackfire's snarl was feral and toothy, her unnatural fangs gleaming in the moonlight. "_I_ am the stronger sister—_I_ am the rightful heir. And I will be _damned_ if I let a foolish mortal defeat me—first-born child of King Myand'r and Queen Luand'r! _Bow down before me, _human_, and meet the end you justly deserve!_"

"Whoa . . . can you say _'Ego Trip'_?" Beast-boy, back into his human form—Raven and Cyborg having been dropped off on the suspension cables—said in his usual joking manner, eyeing their attacker as if she'd gone nuts. Judging by the crazed look in her eyes, his assumption may have been correct.

Robin's eyes narrowed behind the mask. "Only someone who's jealous would kill their own sister—and only a coward would do it while her back was turned." He made sure his voice was level, poising his ever-ready Bo Rod to strike. He met the enraged Tamaranian's gaze head-on, unrelenting in his glare. If she thought she would make him lose focus, she was sadly mistaken; two could play that game, especially when she'd given him all the information he needed. "I don't know much about the Tamaranian race . . . but I'm pretty damn sure they don't consider the unjust murder of a sister as being honorable—_or_ the act of the rightful heir." A shift of the Rod and he was ready in his fighting stance, waiting for her to strike. "You didn't deserve her."

"Damn sure didn't," threw in Cyborg, Terra and Raven nodding their agreement.

She roared—a great, soul-shaking roar that would scare even the bravest of people. Enraged and hungry for blood, she flew at Robin with her claws extended, going straight for the throat. She came within inches of his flesh when a black energy shield protected the young man, the blue-cloaked Titan beside him jumping back from a well-aimed starbolt. Robin took his chance and performed a leaping strike to her temple, dizzying the alien. She shook away the stars and hissed at him—her survival instincts had taken over. Quickly, he told the others to focus all of their energy into the fight—her defenses were low enough that they could win if they fought hard enough.

They did as he ordered without hesitation.

Leaping from monstrous cable to cable, Robin wore her down with kicks and as many strikes from the metal Rod as he could, almost falling into the river when a starbolt connected with the Bo Rod and threw off his balance. He barely managed to land on a pillar, watching for a second as Terra threw another large chunk of earth at the villain. Blackfire dodged it, hurling it back at Terra, and went straight for Robin again. Terra and Beast-boy hadn't been expecting her to retaliate like that and took the blast full-force—Beast-boy couldn't even morph to stop their fall. Acting reflexively, Raven used the last of her power to levitate them onto a cable, collapsing only when the two were safely clamored onto the large, wiry thing. Cyborg caught her, asking her if she was okay and she groaned in response, her energy spent.

Robin was on his own.

Bo Rod ready, he waited for her to come within striking distance. She looked utterly mad, a small dribble of foam bubbling at the side of her mouth. Something must have knocked a screw loose in her head—or maybe they'd said something that his a nerve . . . a rather big one. Whatever the reason, the woman looked insane and Robin told himself that he had to win this one . . . he _had_ to . . . for Starfire. . .

It was a mistake, thinking of her; Blackfire's claws dug into his torso, ripping a small cry from him as she threw him from his pillar. For a heart-stopping moment he thought he would plummet to his death; then all those years as a trapeze-artist resurfaced and he easily somersaulted onto a cable, unfortunately dropping his Bo Rod. He dismissed it, quickly strategizing his and his opponent's next move. The wound on his chest hurt like Hell but he refused to acknowledge it; he'd take care of it later. Breathing labored, he scanned the darkened skies, paying attention for the demented alien. She'd disappeared after his attack on him; had she fled the planet? That would have been the smart thing to do, but in her current state of mind, Robin doubted she knew friend from enemy anymore.

A gust of wind was his only warning before he was knocked off of the cable. He couldn't find his footing and slipped, barely catching the very edge of the pillar that helped hold the cables in place. He scrambled on top, wincing when he tried to stand—applying pressure on his left ankle felt like tiny knives had stabbed into his flesh; the ankle was twisted, but thankfully not broken. On his hands and knees he cursed, forcing his uncooperative limbs to move in vain. He looked up, hearing the maniacal laughter—it was Blackfire, looking down at him with twin starbolts ready to launch. "Pathetic," she said, smiling. "Just like the lowlife creature you are."

_'At least I'll see her again,'_ he thought tranquilly, the thought of death no longer scaring him. The thought filled him with peace instead. Not wanting to go down without a fight, Robin brought out his last explosive disk and hurled it at the high-handed bitch, uncaring of whatever the result would be.

His death did not matter.

When the smoke cleared, an enraged Blackfire hovered high above him, her shoulder bloody and raw. Her fangs were showing again, starbolts glowing evilly in her palms. As a last, lingering taunt, Robin struggled to stand, making sure that his left ankle was left without pressure. "You'll never be half the person Kori was," he said, calling Starfire by her true name. "No matter what you say, no matter what you do, you'll never live up to her—you're nothing but a pathetic excuse for a living being—a coward." She raised her palms high, ready to strike him within a second's time; he continued to speak, undaunted. "You're the weak one, Komand'r of Tamaran. You always will be." He didn't even flinch when she yelled, bringing down the lavender bolts to bring about his death. Not an ounce of fear pervaded him; not even the sound of his name being screamed by his fellow Titans could make him regret his choice.

He would die—as Starfire had died.

But, miraculously, he never felt the blow. For a second, he thought that he had died instantaneously but realized he couldn't have—the pain in his ankle was still present and he could feel the blood flowing from the wound on his torso. He looked over at Raven, expecting to see the tell-tale black energy shield; she was looking at him, her eyes half-closed in exhaustion but alive with fear for him. It had not been her—she couldn't even move. But then who—?

"A Princess of Tamaran shall die tonight," said his savior, the voice calm but deadly with the undercurrent of venom. "But it shall _not_ be me . . . _dear sister_."

**[End of Chapter Six]**


	7. Chapter VII: Weakness

**Worth Fighting for**

**A Teen Titan Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter VII: Weakness**

Above Bridge, Jump City

Had the pain not reminded him otherwise, he would have sworn he was dreaming. Nothing seemed as surreal as the sight that greeted his tired eyes. The knot in his chest intensified, desperately hoping that what he saw was not his imagination. He scarcely dared to breathe. He saw that the others shared his sentiments; Raven looked as if she saw a ghost, Beast-boy gripped Terra's arm as the blonde gripped his hand, and Cyborg's jaw hung loose.

Floating high above them with her silhouette bathed in moonlight, was the Titan they thought they'd lost. Crimson tresses shimmered and glistened with drops of moisture, billowing gently in the night breeze. In some places, her hair stuck to her like glue, the water still not having dried off of her skin. One of the ever-present armbands was gone, the other looking badly damaged; the collar of her shirt was torn, her skirt tattered and wet to match it. Only a small amount of blood stained her top, but other than the small cuts and bruises on her arms and thighs, she seemed fine—unless the hand she pressed against her opposite shoulder and chest was doing more than feeling her heartbeat.

"You have dishonored the _Glaus R'dempten_, Komand'r—you know what the consequences are for dishonoring such a Duel." Her wide eyes could not be seen, shadowed by her ever-moving hair. Her voice, while undoubtedly hers, was a bit off; it held a malice that they'd never heard in Starfire's voice—a hatred they didn't know she was capable of.

"You cannot kill me, Koriand'r," spat the seething Tamaranian, her purple eyes glowing with shock and hatred. Without warning, she fired a beam of lavender energy at her sister, her snarls and growls revealing the depth of her frustration and anger. Robin wanted to destroy Komand'r piece by writhing piece until she was nothing—how could someone hate their own sister? Especially someone as innocent and optimistic as Starfire. He could not explain the sudden, uncharacteristic thoughts that invaded his thought, but he knew that he hated Blackfire—with every ounce of his soul.

He wanted her dead.

Starfire didn't so much as twitch a muscle; a dark green forcefield deflected the weak, desperate attack, disabling her sister's attempt at murder. In a voice both cold and emotionless, she spoke. "The penalty," she said, raising a single cupped hand high into the air, a spherical glowing ball of energy crackling dangerously within it—only, it wasn't its normal light green color. . . it was darker . . . much darker. . . "Is death." She brought the single ball of evergreen power crashing down, odd, black snake-like tendrils slithering around the bolt. Blackfire, weak and unable to conjure up a shield as Starfire did, took the full brunt of the blow—a scream frozen on her stiffened lips. She blinked—once, twice, three times. Slowly, she looked down at herself, sightlessly gazing at her chest . . . there was nothing but massive amounts of gushing blood and . . . nothing. No heart, no bone . . . nothing but a gaping hole in her chest.

Just as she'd done to Starfire.

"How did . . ." The raven-haired Tamaranian coughed, choking on the last of her life's breath. ". . . you . . . defeat—" Blood dribbled from her mouth—her lungs were drowning in the crimson liquid. "—me?" She gasped hollowly. "I . . ." She seemed determined to understand how she'd lost, even if it meant dying that much sooner. ". . . was always . . . the better fighter—you never had what it took . . . to be a princess of Tamaran." Her face betrayed her deep-rooted anguish and anger. "You will never . . ." Her breath hitched horribly; sickeningly. One could only pity her. ". . . You will never earn that right. . ."

"And yet it is I, the one you deem unworthy, who stands victorious in this Duel," said the solemn-faced Starfire, her voice quiet and dark. "It is I who lives. You are no longer the better fighter, sister. End your hatred now, Komand'r—die in peace."

"I'll see you in the Planes of Turmoil—_may X'Hal curse your soul!_" She used every last ounce of life within her to curse her sister, finally letting go. She choked only once, her eyes wide with pain and finality. Vainly, she clutched at her bleeding chest, as if able to stop the loss of blood—of life. It was futile. Cold eyes looked up at the floating redhead, whose head was bowed in what may have been grief and utter sadness.

It would be the last sight she'd ever see.

The alien girl dropped like a stone. She fell into the darkened waters below, fated never to resurface again. The resounding echoed in the eerie silence, the onlookers—joined by reporters—below them having been forgotten long ago.

As one, the Titans looked up at the floating girl, who slowly descended from the midnight skies. None of them knew what to say. When she launched herself into Robin's arms, even the Titan leader was surprised, having been too stunned to so much as breathe—he caught himself, however, and clutched her like a lifeline, letting out a long, shaky breath into her damp hair. He didn't even notice that he was shaking, paying attention only to how she shuddered and sobbed into his shoulder, her grip tight and desperate. He sighed.

_God_, it felt good to hold her again.

Behind his mask, glistening blue eyes were moist with unshed tears. He closed them forcefully, scolding himself while simultaneously not caring—Starfire was alive and in his arms; what did it matter if he'd actually shed a few tears? He was human, after all—he was neither emotionless nor cold. Starfire was his best friend and he'd been certain she'd died . . . now that she was safe and sound in his own, shuddering embrace, he felt as if his life had gained a new meaning. An unknown feeling felt as if it were bursting within him, screaming to be acknowledged. He didn't understand. He gritted his teeth against that familiar lump in his throat—he refused to cry; _he_ was supposed to be the shoulder to lean on right now. _She_ needed _him_ more than _he_ needed _her_ right now—no matter how much his heartbeat thundered in his ears, or how his blood roared his happiness throughout his entire body. He held her tighter, all reservations or thoughts of embarrassment irrelevant.

"R-Robin. . ." She wailed, her cries muffled as she almost screamed into his neck. Her despair was tangible and he found that his chest and stomach were tying themselves in knots again. She sounded as if her world were shattering and he wanted more than anything to soothe her—to stop the fierce cries that threatened to scrape her throat raw. Her nails dug into him, as if in fear that he'd let her go and so he counteracted by stroking her hair, assuring her that he wouldn't be going anywhere.

He sought to calm her. "Shhh, Star—it'll be okay, I promise you." _'And this time, I'll keep my promise,' _he swore, knowing that her "death" would not let him sleep for many nights to come. He inhaled her lovely scent of fruit and orange blossoms, thanking every God he knew of for having spared her. "Don't ever do that to me again, Star," he whispered huskily into her hair, unable to keep the violent tremor from creeping into his voice. "I thought you. . ." He couldn't even say it. He'd become soft—he'd attained a weakness; Starfire. _'If I don't let it_ become _a weakness, it won't be,'_ he told himself, glad that her sobs had gone down in volume. "Promise you'll never leave me." He did not care that both of them were making a lot of promises tonight—her promise to continue their discussion from the carnival, his promise that everything would be okay, and now this—and wanted her to desperately say yes. "Please," he begged, hating herself for having such a flaw, but unable to hate her for giving him it.

This was one promise he refused to let her break.

In a voice thick with tears, she answered, "I promise, Robin—never will I leave you." And she began to cry once more. He let her, uncaring that she was soaking his clothes, or that her tears moistened his neck. Looking up, he met the eyes of his fellow teammates, who seemed to still be in a state of disbelief. Even Beast-boy—whom had turned into a pterodactyl so that everyone could ride home on him—seemed to be struggling to process the information his eyes gave him. Robin did not feel embarrassment or discomfort—he only felt relief and concern.

She was alive and breathing—that was all that mattered.

**[Teen Titans]**

Above the Bay

Had I not been thinking so much, I would have found the sight sickeningly sweet.

Beside me, on the large—green—pterodactyl, sat Robin with Starfire curled up in a shaking, shivering ball in his lap. The sight invokes a memory; one in which, not long after the "Red X" incident, Robin had had to become Slade's apprentice in order to save _us_ from dying due to microscopic probes we didn't even know we had until it was almost too late. He'd had to sacrifice every moral he had to join the enemy in order to save his friends—one of the greatest sacrifices I think Robin could ever make. Likewise, Starfire had given her life to save Robin from her sister—eventually killing her; her own family member.

Those two cared deeply for each other. Whether they knew it or not, there was an affection there. You didn't need powers of empathy to know that.

But as cute and adorable the two looked together—Terra could barely keep her _"Awwww!"_s down to a whisper—other things clouded my mind, driving away the small part of me that actually liked that romantic crap. Like the fact that there had been something _way_ off with Starfire. Not only did her revival confound me—I _knew_ she had died; you couldn't have my powers and not know when someone was dead—but her energy . . . even those without the ability to "see" auras, her starbolts were enough to show that her energy was _all _wrong. And then, to top it all off, that wound of hers . . . I saw how big that hole was—no one could survive with a hole that big in their chest—and I knew for a fact that Starfire did _not_ have any regenerative powers; while she healed faster than humans, it was not due to any powers, because all Tamaranians were able to heal at that rate.

I couldn't come up for an explanation for any of it. Not for the healed wounds, not for the odd energy, and _definitely _not for the out-of-characterness. While I was as happy as everyone else that Starfire was alive and well—if not a little upset—I couldn't help but feel—

What the—?!

Turning my head, I narrow my eyes at Starfire, who is still shivering but most likely from the water and the cool night air than from anymore cries. I tried to look past the exterior—the "shell"—to see what went on within her mind and soul. That strong tendril of . . . _something _had not been my imagination and I suddenly felt off-balance, as if something were missing. While the feeling had been growing more and more recently, I never felt it at this magnitude. I felt even more out of sync when I could not reach into the alien's mind. No one but the high priestess Azar could block me from her mind and Starfire had never been able to before—how was she able to now?

"You okay, Rae?" Cyborg asks me, unable to fully get that small smile from his face—he was still very relieved that one of his friends hadn't died tonight.

I nod. "I'm fine. Just a little uneasy," I answer truthfully.

He nods back, as if understanding. "Star?"

"Yeah," I say, which is _still_ the truth, just not what he's thinking of.

"She gave us a good scare, didn't she?" He says. It never ceases to amaze me how much affection he held for his friends—then again, I think we all care for each other on a deep, unmentionable level. I'm the world's worst socialist, and yet I feel as if this odd little group of "freaks" are the closest thing to a family I will ever have—I truly love these guys, if I'm honest, but I'd never say that aloud. Even with Robin's unyielding stubbornness, Beast-boy's very unfunny (although Happy might have a different say in the matter) jokes, Starfire's never-ending recipes, Cyborg's clashing love of meat wanting to burn all forms of tofu in existence, and Terra's . . . _suspicious_ aura, I still care for them as I would a beloved family member. Or member_s_.

After moments of trying to place that odd feeling, I give up, leaving it for when I am able to meditate—I can barely so much as walk presently and I know I'll be in bed for a few days. It is embarrassing having to fly on Beast-boy's back, but as long as no one fusses over me, I'll live through it—hopefully, they'll still be getting over the effects of Starfire's revival (I know Robin will) and leave me in peace. Maybe I was hoping to much and jinxed myself; Beast-boy asked if I needed any help—he offered to turn into a horse and carry me upstairs—and Cyborg thereafter. I decided to be nice to them since their offers were, for lack of a better word, sweet.

"I'll be fine, thanks—you two should get some rest, though; we've had a rough night." I hoped I sounded a little less deadpan than usual.

"You sure Rae? If anyone needs a rest, _you_ definitely do."

"Yeah—I can be a super-strong llama, if you want," the little green changeling declared, strutting around the room as a llama. Perhaps I was feeling even more drained than I thought—I smiled at him, actually finding the joke amusing. Luckily, the said jokester was too busy dancing around in his green llama form to notice this—the only time I ever really smiled at his jokes; and he'd missed it—and after reassuring them both, we said good night to each other, then Robin and Starfire—Terra had already crawled into bed—and went off to our separate rooms.

I knew I wouldn't be emerging for at least four days, so I decided to take advantage of the "downtime" and have a small chat with my Emotions—perhaps _they _knew what was going on in my head and how to solve this weird mystery; they _did_ live there, after all.

And maybe _then_ I could get used to the idea of Starfire being a princess.

**[Teen Titans]**

Titan Tower

Never have I felt this way. In all of the revolutions of my existence, never have I ever felt this . . . this . . . _emotion_. There is an unbearable pain weighing heavily on my heart, and I simply want to crawl in my bed and cry myself to sleep . . . but in his arms, I feel alright, as if everything truly _would_ be okay. I feel my heart fluttering, and it is not from fear, anguish, or despair—or even because of the realization that I have killed my own blood sister. It is not even because of the hurt I feel.

It is because I am with him.

I let go of my hesitation and cry into his shoulder, uncaring of how weak they may think I am. He is warm and strong—a pillar of strength I can hold onto. His arms encased me and I cling onto him, unwilling to ever let go. I want to tell him so much . . . but I cannot. My sobs hurt my throat, erasing any form of speech I could have managed. I feel his body shake against mine and hug him closer, hoping to comfort both him and myself. His voice holds an odd emotion that I cannot decipher. When he pleads with me to make a promise, I realize that he was very much affected by my dying—this both saddens me and brings me hope. It means he cares for me greatly, does it not? Or at least, to some extent? That I am not expendable? But then I regret causing him pain—I do not want him to ever think I would abandon him willingly. Why would I ever want to?

He is my best friend.

_"Friendship was never meant to last, young princess."_

My cries, which had calmed down a little, returned full-force at the reminder that I now shared my soul with this nameless demon. I can feel Robin's confusion, but cannot alleviate it. Only with him do I feel safe . . . I wish I could tell him that.

Long, blissful minutes pass before it is time to go home—our home. A place I thought I would never see again. They must think I am pathetic, for when we all climb aboard Beast-boy's back—who turned into a large flying dinosaur for us—I refused to relinquish my hold on Robin, burying my face in his shoulder. I cannot let go, for if I do, I know the hurt will come and I do not think I am ready to fight my inner demons. Or de_mon_. I should let go—poor Robin is most likely uncomfortable—but I cannot bring myself to do so. My cries are withering, but my tears will not cease—they flow onward like a river. Not once did Robin complain and I was grateful—I sincerely needed him right now; I wonder if he knew that.

Not surprisingly, Robin wordlessly carries me to my room—he is too much of a gentleman, I think, and I feel the weakest of smiles tug at my lips as I sniffle pitifully. The others are oddly quiet—for which I am glad because I do not think I would be able to answer the question they will undoubtedly ask. They wish both Robin and I a good night and head off in towards their sleeping quarters. Robin continues to carry me to mine. At the doorway, however, he stops and I know he is observing the chaotic scene of my room, for I have not slept nor been in my room since that day the walls turned black.

"Starfire," he whispers, his voice raspy.

"Yes?" My own voice is no stronger.

"Are you hurt? I'm sorry I didn't think of it before—I was . . . do you need to go to the infirmary?"

I shake my head in the negative—my wounds have healed by powers I know are not my own. The only pain I feel is emotional. Robin nods and eyes the room cryptically. "Maybe you shouldn't sleep here tonight," he says and I nod vigorously, not realizing that I am tickling him with my hair—he would later tell me that, while not wholly unpleasant, it was hard to keep balance whilst carrying a girl when you are being tickled.

"Robin?" I say uncertainly. I look up at him, and I wish I could see him without the mask—just once. . . "May I . . . would it be acceptable for me to sleep in the Common Room after I bathe? I would . . . feel better there."

He smiles a little. "Of course." He sets me down on my feet and I almost stumble. He catches me, of course, and I manage to smile for him in spite of the fact that I suddenly feel cold—I force myself not to reach out to him again. "You go bathe; I'll get the Common Room ready for you."

I smile at his kindness. "That is not necessary—"

He smiles a little wider, a small flare of the regular Robin showing itself. "I'm gonna do it anyway, so don't argue with me." I cannot help but giggle, hoping that my cheeks are not as red as they feel. "Now go—shoo!" He waves me away and I feel the darkness lift ever so slightly from my heart. On impulse, I stand on the tip of my toes—when did he grow so tall?—and give him a kiss on the cheek. It was an urge I could not suppress and I feel my face redden just a little—though it is nothing compared to the severe blush on Robin's. I have only recently learned the meaning of "blushing"—thanks to Beast-boy and Cyborg, who teased me awfully when my cheeks flamed during a training session with Robin (he had pinned me in what seemed like a compromising position)—and I believe this is the first time I have ever noticed the Boy Wonder do so.

"Thank you, Robin—for everything." I do not let him respond, for I feel that I would burn to ashes if I were to remain under his gaze any longer. I go into my foreboding room to quickly retrieve the clothes and towel I will use and silently hover to the bathroom that all of us Titans share. Robin has already left, but I think of him nonetheless, pushing aside the darker memories of that night—I will only breakdown again, and I do not want that. Even while I bathe and the soothing hot water splashes against my skin, I think of him, hoping that I will be able to obtain the courage to tell him the truth; that I am afraid of what lies within my soul, that I am afraid that I am turning evil. That I am afraid to even sleep anymore.

And that I love him.

**[End of Chapter VII]**


	8. Chapter VIII: Rest?

**Worth Fighting For**

**A Teen Titan Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter VIII: Rest?**

[Common Room, Titan Tower]

Emerging from the bathroom, I feel refreshed and lighter than I have in weeks. Clad in a pink, teddy-bear decorated pajama set and white socks, I set about towel drying my hair, massaging my aching scalp whilst I am at it. When I am finished, I dispose of the fluffy drying cloth in my eerie room, careful not to linger too long within the darkened chamber. I stretch and yawn, planning on spending a good night's sleep on the black couch—a _dreamless_ sleep. I plan on not thinking about anything but resting—for any thoughts I would have would be awful and I do not want nightmares tonight . . . not tonight. Running a hand through my slightly damp hair, I hover into the Common Room—

And stop.

There, standing before the great windows, is Robin in his sleeping attire—a simple pair of ebony sweatpants and a "muscle" shirt. Socks as white as my own adorn his feet. His bare arms are crossed as he looks out of the windows at Jump city, his serious, masked face reflected in them. I am able to admire his strong, lean frame for precious seconds before he sees my own visage in the window and turns around, his arms unfolding. His smile is gentle and inviting and I cannot help but smile myself, hoping my cheeks do not burn as they did before. Slowly, I hover gently to the couch as he begins walking towards me; I notice that there is a pillow and blanket that I do not recognize laying on it.

"Since your room's . . . you know . . . I thought I'd lend you these until we can all go out and buy the things necessary to fix it," he says, noticing that I have spotted blanket and pillow. He must have misunderstood my look of surprise because next he said, "They're clean, I assure you—just took them out of the driers not that long ago—" I did not let him finish. I had flown over and given him a tight hug, losing count as to how many times I have hugged the Boy Wonder. He is blushing softly but I am not—I am truly grateful.

"You are much too kind, Robin," I say, smiling at him. "You have done so much for me already—it was not necessary to do this for me as well."

His cheeks darken adorably. "It wasn't a problem—what kind of friend would I be if I let you sleep out here without anything? Not a very good one, I think."

I giggle. "And you are my best." I decide that was not the best—however correct it may have been—thing to say; my face feels engulfed in burning flames and I look at the ground, distracting myself with the sound of bubbling coming from the kitchen. I look over my shoulder to see a pot of boiling water steaming on the stovetop and look towards Robin once more, who is scratching the back of his head in something akin to embarrassment—or pleasure, I cannot tell which through his mask, and I wish I could see him without it. . .

"Oh yeah—I put some water to boil in case you wanted Herbal Tea again." While he didn't say it, I knew he thought of the night's events; he had been right in assuming I would need something warm and soothing to drink before bed that night, even if I hadn't thought of it sooner. Looking at him, I feel the urge to hug him once more. I restrain myself, thinking that perhaps the poor boy has had enough of me for one day—too many hugs and a male may become suspicious, even distant. I did not want that to happen.

I opted to, instead, smile. "You are truly the best, Boy of Wonder." The endearment causes even his ears to redden and he offers to serve the tea. I let him do so only because I know he will need the moments to compose himself—if truth be told, I need to compose myself as well; I suddenly feel like playing wicked games with Robin (I believe Earthlings call it "flirting") and I know it is not right. In light of all that has happened, I should be grieving because of what I have done—mourning my sister. I should be crying and scared in my room, huddled in a ball and wishing the demon within me would haunt me no more. I should _not_ be feeling this odd tinge of rebellion—for I _so _want to do just that; rebel. I wanted to break out of that shell of innocence they have labeled me with for so long—I want to prove to Robin I can be just as desirable as any of the Earth girls he most likely has had in his bed in the past. I want to—

I bring a hand to my face, shaking my head. Those thoughts were not mine—could _not _be mine. I would _never_ think such things—I do not want to flirt or rebel; I am fine with the way things are. Why are these thoughts pervading my senses?

"_I am giving you the freedom to enjoy what should have_ been_ yours; I am giving you the courage you so desperately wanted."_

Him again. I should have known it was him—but somehow I did not even detect the faint trace of his manipulation. It is very odd how easily he can slip past my defenses—for a few moments, I had actually believed it was I thinking those things. But I would never think those things.

. . . Would I?

When Robin brings over the Tea, I thank him and sit down on the couch. He sits beside me, but at a proper distance away. After long moments of silence, I notice that I feel more alert than I do tired—perhaps it is the Tea—and I ask Robin if he would like to view a movie with me. He says "Of course—which one do you wanna see?" as he strolls over to our massive movie collection—Beast-boy's fault, really, for he seems to thrive on collecting as many movies as possible. I think for a moment, and decide on a film I remember we watched during a "Movie Night". It was a very good film, full of comedy, adventure, action and sadness—at the ending mostly. I tell Robin of my choice, and I can almost feel his weary gaze through the mask.

"Hidalgo?" He says, repeating my choice. "You sure, Star—you cried at the ending last time."

I nod. "The ending is sad, but the movie is overall enjoyable—if you do not want to view it, _you_ can choose if you like."

He shakes his head. "No, I was just makin' sure—I don't want you upset anymore tonight. . ." He let the sentence trail off and I feel a glimmer of warmth. It truly is odd that I am not crying right now—surely recent events would give me enough reason to do so—but I try not to dwell on it; I do not want Robin worrying unnecessarily, and sadness is an emotion I do not want to feel right now.

Robin "pops in" the film and sits on the couch, turning it on with the remote. I frown at his distance—even on "Movie Night" he sits closer to me than he was right then. Feeling bold, I ask him to join me under the blanket. His cheeks pinken because of the wording, but he declines, saying that he is fine and to not worry over him. My frown deepens. I tell him to not do it for himself then—do it for me, because I would truly like a companion by my side; not a companion on the other end of the couch. I do not tell him that I long for his warmth beside me—reassuring and pleasing. I do not tell him that I have become exceedingly selfish and that I want more of his touch—in spite of how long we were in contact before, I want more of it; I want more of _him_.

And it is good that I do not; he only stares silently at me for a moment before standing and covering himself with the large, soft cover. His legs are stretched out before him, his feet propped up on the table. Without asking, I lay my head down in his lap, hugging the pillow in the place of a stuffed animal—he tenses immediately. When he sees that I will not move anytime soon, he is forced to relax and soon we are peacefully watching the movie, the only real surprise being when his fingers gently combed through my hair, easing the tension I had not known was there.

It was no shock when I fell asleep to the rhythmic massage of his fingers' passage against my scalp. He joined me not long after, one hand loosely tangled in my hair, the other resting on the side of my abdomen.

**[Teen Titans]**

[Within the Mirror]

". . . Wait, I must've misheard you—what did you say?"

The pink-clad doppelganger grinned happily—nothing could ever make her frown, for she was, quite literally, the epitome of happiness. "No you didn't mishear me; you can finally stop meditating!" At deadly glare her blue-robed counterpart sent her, she hastily amended herself. "Okay, so you can cut down on the meditating hours—you can finally possess the control you've always wanted. We can feel again—and you can let me frolic around more often!" She looked positively giddy—which should have been expected, her being Happy and all—but this was on a scarier level. Never had Happy ever been so ecstatic and she, Raven, was developing a headache from simply looking at her.

". . . Do you even comprehend what the _Hell_ you just told me?!" Here, in the haven of her mind, her emotions were free—quite literally. She could feel as anyone else could—and her temper, for some reason, seemed extremely short whenever she walked the planes of her own mind. A vein throbbed in her temple and she sought control. "Do you even understand what _happened_?!"

"Of course, silly!" A megawatt smile. "He left. Trigon's gone—and that's why you've been feeling incomplete; you're not used to Rage not being there."

"How did you—nevermind." Of course Happy would know of her dilemmas—she _lived_ in Raven's mind, after all. "You know where he went?"

Happy looked thoughtful—well, as thoughtful as she _could_ look whilst hoping up and down on one foot. "I'm not sure—that's Knowledge's department. Why don't you go see her—she's been writing like crazy in those books of hers. Maybe she has a clue, y'know?" She performed a little cartwheel and a backflip, spreading her arms wide to then become an airplane. Her hood fell off to reveal a face identical to the _real_ Raven, only this one had a sparkle to her eyes Raven never had, her pale lips parted in a large, toothy grin.

She thanked the giggling Emotion before sauntering off to find Knowledge. While Knowledge's domain was easier to discern from any of the others, it was still hard to find; the rocky pathways seemed to change every other second, their instability yet another byproduct of her troubled mind.

Sighing, she hoped onto a platform, not surprised when it disconnected from the others and floated out into the abyss of red skies and black voids. Many-eyed ravens flew around me as I was carried to a floating island, but instead of angry, razor-toothed snarls, they were docile and quiet, Trigon's influence having vanished. One even landed on her shoulder, toying with her growing violet hair. While it was a positive change, it was still a change—and she'd never dealt well with change; not when it concerned her very mentality.

She hopped off of the platform, not watching as it vanished—it would be back later when she called it. The island she landed on looked nothing like the aromatic paradise dear Happy occupied—complete with flying fruits and colorful landscapes such as yellow-and-pink grass, orange-leaved trees and lime colored skies. Knowledge's home was . . . less perfumed, which was a gentle relief to her nose. It smelled of fresh paper and new leather, the tinge of ink barely even noticeable. This island was also easier on the eyes; dark, earthy tones made up the thousands of shelves, each filled with color-coded books where the lightest color was a pale yellow (but it was only one book)—it was more comfortable to Raven than Happy's world, where it took long moments for the eyes to adjust to the bright décor. The thick cloud of silence was nice too—almost like a library, except on a floating island.

Walking past shelves she knew were filled with memories and stray thoughts she probably never realized she had, Raven looked for Knowledge; Knowledge was a quiet creature, almost like Timid, and whenever loud noises stabbed through her peaceful aura of silence, she got jumpy and nervous—sometimes incapable of helping because she was so scared. Raven walked around the perpetual maze, searching for the yellow-cloaked figure. It took a long while, but she finally located the Emotion sitting in a chair and writing neatly in a thick book with a yellow cover.

Raven recognized it immediately; it was Starfire's book.

Raven called to the working Emotion, who looked up at her and smiled tentatively. Raven hovered over quietly, wondering how to bring up the subject, and deciding on just getting to the point. "I need to know what's going on—especially with Starfire," she said, careful not to speak too loudly.

Knowledge closed the book and handed it to her. "This should help—but you may need a few other books to comprehend the whole of the situation; I'll go get them."

"Situation?" Raven asked of the departing figure, sitting down on the wooden chair and opening Starfire's book—it was a book in which Knowledge kept every thought that pertained to Starfire. Beast-boy's was green, Cyborg's was grey, Robin's was red, Terra's was brown, and her own was a dark blue. While it was not necessary to read from the very beginning, Raven was honestly curious—sometimes a person's mind ran away with them without the person even realizing.

Knowledge came back a few moments later, carry a small pile of books—one which was coal-black; Trigon's. Raven eyed it for a moment, thanked her, and turned back to the book in her hands, placing it on the desk that appeared out of nowhere. Relieving the kinks in her neck, she set about reading, hoping she'd get the information she needed in time.

**[Teen Titans]**

[Titan Tower]

When the sun rose in all of its bright, eye-blinding glory, not a single Titan in the T-shaped tower was able to appreciate, or even greet it. They were all still in a deep slumber, the half-machine, half-human one of them needing extra time to recharge. The changeling had fallen off of his own bed, landing in a pile of clothing and rolling over with a fanged smile on his oblivious face, seemingly enjoying his dream—whatever it was. Terra, the Earth-moving blonde, kicked off her blankets, her brows furrowed in despair—her dream did not seem pleasant at all. The dark Titan, Raven, lay as motionless as the dead, her pale skin adding to the disturbing effect.

In the Common Room, the Titan Leader and the Tamaranian slept quietly, the redhead having moved to sit completely on the slumbering boy's lap. The television had turned off automatically a long while ago, so no sound—except for their harmonious breathing—could awaken them.

That afternoon, with the sun streaming in strongly through the grand windows, there was still silence within the Tower. Exhaustion, combined with the comfortable air-conditioning, kept them from breaking their peaceful state of oblivion. In fact, not a single one of them stirred, even well into the evening—no one was awakened by any alarms of crime or calls of help. Come midnight—and later, morning—the Titans would have slept the day away, their energy returning slowly but surely with each passing second; even the Tamaranian, who absorbed energy from the sun, found it hard to break out of the shell of sleep. Sore joints slowly healed, bruises slowly faded.

No signs of life were shown until well into the next day, when the robotic teen unplugged and stretched his machine-based joints. He yawned loudly, feeling refreshed yet groggy at the same time. With a small smile, he ventured out of his room and into the Common Room, wondering if there was any Pop-Tarts left—or if Beastboy had stolen them again. When he found a brand new box of the strawberry tart, he smiled, turning towards the television to watch some 'toons before the rest of his teammates awakened.

He froze.

Now, while he'd always known Robin and Starfire had some "thing" for each other, the sight of the redhead sleeping in the boy's lap would be a little surprising—however, that was not what had him slack-jawed with his human eye bulging.

Before his very horrified gaze, a thick black tendril of smoke curled around the slumbering Tamaranian, slowly but surely dragging her away from Robin while she unconsciously clutched the Titan leader with all of her strength—he was surprised the boy hadn't awakened yet. When the thick smoke yanked her particularly hard, she whimpered and her eyes shot open, revealing glowing ebony depths that cackled like black lightning.

_"Let him go, Koriand'r," _said a voice that reverberated seductively throughout the room. _"He will not keep you safe—only _I _can keep you safe and secure. Let the boy go . . . let him go . . ."_

The box of Pop-Tarts fell to the floor.

The box clattered nosily, drawing attracting attention from the black-eyed Starfire. Her focus disturbed, the unknown speaker won the fierce battle and flung her into the large windows, landing in a startled, broken heap on the ground. A large cloud of smoke—eerily similar to the one that came out of Raven a little while back—rushed out of her crumpled body, moving to hover over Robin for a brief moment before speeding towards the stunned Cyborg at incredible speed. Without warning it slammed into his chest painfully, swirling around and within the teen's body.

The half-robot's cry echoed through the halls of Titan Tower, finally awakening most of the slumbering occupants. Robin, instantly alert, jumped up into a fighting stance, turning to face Cyborg, whose lifeless face stared back at him in shock. Robin sprang forward, his friend's name on his lips, but it was too late; the black smoke had vanished, seemingly into thin air, letting the metal giant fall limply.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

**[End of Chapter Eight]**


	9. Chapter IX: Bird of Prey

**Worth Fighting For**

**A Teen Titan Fanfic**

By Loki

**Chapter IX: Bird of Prey**

The book snapped close with a resounding thump.

She couldn't believe it. _'How did . . . ? Even with my meditation and control, how did he . . . ? And of all people, why . . . ?'_ So many questions. Though many questions had been answered with Knowledge's help, more and more arose. She felt drained. "I don't get it," she muttered to herself. Knowledge stood off to the side, watching her as if debating whether it was best to inform her Mistress or not; said Mistress noticed and snapped, though she hadn't not meant to. "Spit it out."

Knowledge had taken a few lessons from Bravery, apparently. She did not cower, though her voice wasn't as strong. "Trigon was never completely bound to this place from the beginning," the Emotion started. "Rather, he never found a more suitable host than you. It had never occurred to him to flee from here. Until now, that is."

Raven sighed. "So he found a more 'suitable' host?" She could feel her blood boiling—the fact that it did not summon up the Demon Lord proved that what she'd read was not, in fact, wrong. That this nightmare was true. "I can't believe this. He has no right to bring the others into this mess. This is _my battle!_" Thunder ripped through the sky, emphasizing her displeasure. It took a moment, but the spellcaster calmed herself—by habit, because she could be as angry as she'd like to now. In a self-deprecating tone, she mumbled to herself. "The reclusiveness, that weird feeling, the aura, the vision . . . it was staring me in the face, and I didn't see it." Hadn't wanted to believe it.

A few weeks earlier, Raven had had a dream. A distorted, fragmented premonition, really, but she hadn't known that then; she'd been running towards a red, blinking light. She'd been screaming, "No—not her! Leave her alone!"

Starfire had been there, crying. Bleeding and hurt and crying. A young woman, unscathed, was laughing, Slade placing his hand on her shoulder. She'd cackled again. "See, Star? This is what being from Earth is all about; looking out for no one but numbero uno. Just because you beat your sister doesn't mean you can beat me." Beast-boy had tackled her in the form of a pterodactyl, and Robin had thrown an explosive disc at her. A cloud had enshrouded them all, and Raven was blinded.

Above, she could see the Wakinyan—the mythological Thunderbird—flying up and away, a trail of yellow in its wake.

When the fog had cleared, Trigon stood, with Starfire floating before him like a rag doll. She wore a dress of torn and tattered vermilion. Her hair was everywhere and her eyes were black. She was dead, Raven somehow knew. Dead and cold and being used as her father's vessel. The spellcaster sent forth her soul self; the raven of old folklore that devoured and ate the wicked. It circled the vessel, and when trying to penetrate into it—maybe Raven could revive her, somehow . . . someway—a large bird, wreathed in flame, shot out from within, thrashing and clawing at the raven. Both birds spiraled and fought viciously.

And in the end, there stood Starfire. The doll. The puppet—the vessel of destruction.

"The Phoenix," Raven said aloud. Lately, the Phoenix and Wakinyan had shown up more and more in her dreams; aside from the vision, it only made small cameos. She'd never thought about it much before, but . . . "The Phoenix was Starfire." The Wakinyan was a mystery, though; it must belong to that young woman allied to Slade, but for the life of her, she could never see the character clearly. _'I'm not meant to know this yet, then.'_

"This is wrong." Starfire was _not_ supposed to suffer because of this. It was unfair—so blatantly unfair. But . . . what could possibly have attracted Trigon to Starfire in the first place? Trigon was not above forcing a beautiful vessel to sire his children, yes, but if he had wanted that, it would have already been tried. So why was the bloodthirsty, vengeful devil after the innocent, sinless, selfless Starfire? It made no sense whatsoever, and her head was spinning because of it. _'What could possibly be in the nature of that alien to drive Trigon to her?__' _The answers were not forthcoming. _'If only Azar were here,'_ she caught herself thinking, but stopped.

She couldn't run to the high priestess every time something happened.

"You _will_ pay for this." She glared at a distant bookshelf; Knowledge grew weary, but decided that helping her Mistress was more important than fearing her. Again, Raven knew, and snapped. "What?"

Silence. Then, "To extract Trigon, you will have to fight the Phoenix—and win." Raven growled at Knowledge; she hated when her Emotions got all cryptic on her. When Knowledge offered no more, Raven sat back and forced calm again—anger came so easily to her now that there were no restraints. It was a bit discerning, but her main focus now was how to resolve this situation. How to fix this mess. _'Fight the __Phoenix__, huh? . . . So I have to fight Starfire?'_ It seemed like a distasteful solution; she didn't want to fight Starfire—she wanted to help her. To right the wrong. Fighting her would not help at all.

"No, not fight," said Knowledge, her fingers twitching for the pen; all this time unable to write the stray thoughts in Raven's mind would mean a _lot_ of catching up as soon as her Mistress left. "Think about the dream; and the mirror."

"The mirror?" What did her mirror have to do with this? How could—? . . . Wait. Her eyes closed, the familiar calm and peace of meditation clearing her head from all of the emotional clutter. The dream. The Phoenix. _"Fight the __Phoenix__." _In the dream, her Raven had been fighting to take a hold of Starfire—to penetrate the corpse's mind. The Raven had dueled with the Phoenix because the Phoenix had barred entry. _"Fight the __Phoenix__"._ Fight the Phoenix—gain access into Starfire's mind . . . but gaining access was all well and good; how to actually get _in_? _"The mirror."_ The mirror. The mirror granted entry into Raven's own, private Hell. _"Fight the __Phoenix__"._

She could reverse the magicks within the mirror, and have it reflect to her the inner sanctum of Starfire. If only for a short while, but enough so that she could help her friend. _'It'll take time, though.'_ Azar herself had made that mirror, embedding it with the power to reflect in it Raven's soul.

Raven was not yet on Azar's level. One day, maybe, but not _to_day.

Hastily shuffling away, Raven flew to the Maze as quickly as she could, hiding an annoyed sigh when Timid showed up to show her the way; she hated the Maze. It took ages to get through, and Timid was the only one who could navigate it—the Maze being hers and all. Timid said nothing to her Mistress, fiddling with the straps of her cloak pathetically. Seeing a replica act as such made her heart twist a little—it was hard, sometimes, to remember that they were not people; merely representations of her emotions. Catering to their needs would not make them any less of what they are—they would feel the way they do forevermore, because it was _who_ they were.

She would have to remind Beast-boy this the next time he hugged Timid and tried to console her; she'd caught the changeling one time as he'd stolen away in her mind—she'd known, because she'd started thinking about him all of a sudden—and found him trying to get Timid to laugh. _'Just like that time Cyborg had a party with Happy.'_

Those guys. _Honestly._

Her thoughts of them were fond, however. All of them were fond, no matter how annoyed she may get with them; and it pained her that Starfire, of all people, was hurting because of this.

_'All of this time, and I never knew. Never realized it.'_

The alien had always stuck by her, even when the others had had their doubts. She'd meditated and performed rituals with her, even helping her call forth Azar once. Azar, she reflected, had become a little attached to the girl—as attached as she _could_ be, anyway. Raven had always been Azar's prized pupil . . . the spellcaster wondered what the priestess would think of her now. _'I can't believe I didn't notice this.'_

But she would make it up the Starfire. On her life, she would make it up to her.

Reaching the end of the Maze, Raven sped to the exit. A burst of power erupted from her palms and activated the Gate; when Raven moved forward, so too, did the shadow that had been following her—the doubt nagging away at her. High above circled the ravens, accompanied, this time, by a flock of crows. A _murder_ of crows. _'Murder.'_ Murder. _"Heed not lightly the signs your instincts give you; they will light your way when your vision grows bleak," _she remembered her mother once saying to her—a phrase the great Azar had once uttered. A phrase that had not popped into her head for no reason.

"Oh no."

The hymn began then, haunting in its sweetness and solemnity. When Raven fled from her world, the hymn echoed faintly in her ears.

_'It's almost done—the merger is almost complete.'_ The sideways glance she gave the larger, vanity mirror proved it—her image was not one she recognized. _'I haven't heard that hymn in a long, long time.'_ The purity in her aura, the holiness of the song that resonated through her mind . . . they were tokens of her birth; of the days directly before Trigon's influence had begun to manifest itself. The hymn was one her mother had hummed often, and before, she would have given her left leg just to hear it again.

Now, it only struck a painful blow to her heart.

She was too late.

OS IUSTI MEDITABITUR SAPIENTIAM  
_The mouth of the just shall meditate wisdom_

ET LINGUA EIUS LOQUETUR IUDICIUM  
_And his tongue shall speak judgment_

BEATUS VIR QUI SUFFERT TENTATIONEM  
_Blessed is the man who Endures temptation_

QUONIAM CUM PROBATUS FUERIT  
_For when he has been tried_

ACCIPIET CORONAM VITAE  
_He shall receive the crown of life_

KYRIE IGNIS DIVINE ELEISON  
_Our Lord, the Divine Fire, have mercy_

O QUAM SANCTA  
_O how sacred_

QUAM SERENA  
_How fair_

QUAM BENIGNA  
_How kind_

QUAM AMOENA  
_How delightful_

O CASTITATIS LILIUM  
_O Lily of chastity_

Black thunder raped the silence of the room.

Robin, in muted shock, didn't even realize it was Raven standing not two feet behind him, her left palm outstretched. For the first time in a _long_ time, his head was in shambles; spinning with no reprieve in sight. Kneeling, he placed his hand gently on the human flesh of Cyborg's gleaming bald head—something that would have had him laughing, were it a different situation. _'Cold,'_ he thought numbly, his fingers trembling. How could one's skin become so cold so quickly after death?

. . . Death.

The blackguard had visited the Titan Tower again, the dirty bastard.

His hands clenched into fists after gently closing his friend's eyelids; in spite of what movies depicted, the human eyes remained half-open once the body stopped functioning. It was the final clue—yes, one of his best friends was dead. His own eyes swam with tears, his teeth grinding together in a vain attempt to quell the raging tide within him.

Memories, unbidden, floated to the surface; Cyborg poking him whilst he was asleep, Cyborg helping him fix the R-Cycle when even Robin could not figure out what the Hell was wrong with it. Cyborg laughing, Cyborg throwing a meat pie at the infuriated changeling, Cyborg arm wrestling Starfire, who'd spent the next week in half-tears and sorrow because she'd accidentally taken _off_ his arm—and then Cyborg reassuring her repeatedly that it was okay. Cyborg smiling, Cyborg playing football with the citizens of Jump City. Cyborg Cyborg Cyborg. Who commenced the "guy talk". Their friend.

And he was gone.

It was so unfair. So blatantly unfair.

"Robin." The voice was tired and strong; it didn't register until it spoke again. Stern. "Robin."

"R-Rae?" The harrowing pain in his chest—not from the wounds that were still healing there—turned his own timbre into a croak. Vaguely, he registered the fact that Raven looked different. _Much_ different; her usual ensemble was lily-white, her hair long and flowing—not as long as Star's, but longer than before. And her eyes. They . . . _sparkled_. With emotion. In his numbness, he realized she was very, very pretty. Never before did Robin ever look at Raven in that way, but she was.

"He's not dead, Robin," she said, and he thought he'd misheard her.

"Not . . . ?"

She looked at him and her eyes flickered with sadness . . . and urgency. "I ca—I can't explain right now, but trust me—Cyborg is _not _dead. But he _is_ in trouble." Her eyes moved over to the unmoving redhead crumpled by the window, and his own followed her line of sight, immediately rushing over. So in shock over Cyborg's apparent death, he'd momentarily forgotten about Starfire. It was understandable, but he felt the slightest bit guilty. _'I trust Raven; if she says Cyborg isn't dead, then he isn't.'_ But that sickening, hollow dread in his heart was something he wouldn't soon forget. He'd felt it on a catastrophic level when Starfire hadn't resurfaced in the bay, and he'd felt it again, just now.

Yes, he trusted Raven. She would not steer him wrong—it was sad that he _needed_ steering, but he was . . . words couldn't describe it. He felt like a puppet, at the whim of nature and everyone in it. If he sat down for a second to clear his head (he'd just woken up, after all), he'd get back into the swing of things. But . . . the mist wouldn't clear. _'Starfire.__ Gotta see if she's okay.' _

"Robin, no!" He halted at the sound of Raven's voice. Who was the leader just then? Sure as Hell wasn't him. "Starfire's alive too, but . . . there's so much to explain." It was still hard to believe that this emotional, long-haired young woman was the Raven he knew. Raven wasn't emotional _or_ long-haired. _'That's really screwing with my head. Her hair and the clothes.'_ Admittedly, she was nowhere near Starfire's level of emotional sensitivity, but her eyes actually said what she felt, and her voice wasn't as deadpan as before. It wasn't like she had attained Beast-boy's jubilance or anything—but for Raven, it was like Hell just froze over . . . or, at least, got very cold.

Cautiously, the spellcaster moved to the alien-girl, her palms glowing gray. Her brows furrowed.

Knees suddenly very weak, Robin sat down in place, unseeing eyes staring at the floor. Beast-boy and Terra, awakened by the crash—Starfire's impact against the window left large, jagged cracks in the panes, he reflected—tumbled in the room at that moment.

But the Titan leader did not focus on them, on their horrified gasps and unbelieving protests—because, on the inside, he felt empty. As if there was no reason worth focusing on _anything_ anymore. Useless. Helpless.

_"Yes. Realize your true potential—that you are nothing but an infinitesimal speck, and that I will crush you. All of you."_

Eyes wide, the mist cleared. Lifting his gaze, he saw Starfire rise from the ground, levitating . . . but her body was limp, as if _she_ were the marionette manipulated by some unseen force. _'The voice was coming from her.'_ Long strands of red hair fell forward to hide her face, her chin against her chest. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. The feeling came back in his legs and he stood, the natural determination and energy that always flowed within him returning to him. His focus came back.

Starfire lifted her head—and her eyes were as fathomless as the eternally black night.

_"There will be no mercy."_

**End of Chapter**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Didja miss me?. . . Okay, forget I asked . . . If anyone's interested, to contact me, the information is on my profile. You can debase and destroy me there.

As always, thank you ever so much for reading. And thank you for your reviews! Though I never beg for them, they still make me smile when my skies are gray. I love you guys XD.

-- Chant (Loki – TheGrimScreamer)


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